From the Stuffed Pony to the Dire End
by Luinwen-2013
Summary: Loyalty, Honor, and a Willing Heart M version for chapters 28 on. Previous chapters ratet T are to be found at /s/9253058/1/Loyalty-Honor-and-a-Willing-Heart
1. Chapter 28 – Stuffed Pony (M)

The Company was excited with the news Bilbo, Fili and Kili brought from their search, uplifting moods and making they chatter like a bunch of teenagers. They explained the path was narrow and difficult to make, but after all they got through since departing from the Blue Mountains no dwarf was scared of a little risk. All of them spoke at once, figuring out who would do what and when.

"It is right above this camp, we only cannot see it because there's an overhang in the cliff. The bay is large enough for us to move our camp there to, except for the ponies."

"We will see it in the morrow. How long is it until New Years Day?"

"Not much time left, I deem. The moon has almost waned."

"So, we have to move the camp and haul up the charcoal in the burlap sacs that are empty."

"Óin's plants are already incased, we leave them down here."

"Someone must stay to keep the ponies."

"I'll stay!" Bombur offered. "I don't know if the path is broad enough for me to tread along it."

"You will have to get to the bay sooner or later, Bombur. When Smaug is stirred no one will be safe outside the Mountain."

"I'll keep the ponies as long as needed, in the meanwhile we think about how to get me there."

"All right, but remember there will be no other way than to get to the bay."

They slept in a better mood than they had in several days, albeit the cold of the upcoming winter and the lack of a fire to warm their bodies, food and souls. They were almost there. Almost home.

Next day they managed to makeshift sheave with Óin's staff and a tin mug they took the bottom off and molded to have a groove in its middle for the rope to slide along it. With this they could haul the supplies much faster than carrying them all way up, which took some hours because of the winding trail, and was safer, because the narrow ledge was skipped.

Bilbo was exempt from any other duty than to stay close to the gray stone (the "doorstep" as they said after his words in Bag-End, an age ago), and think of a way to get in; although, he was sure it was just a matter of time, of waiting until the sun light of Durin's Day showed the Back Door, and he kept Thorin close to him, just in case. It was so easier for him than he thought would be when Gandalf and the dwarves came to his home, because now they had plans, and second plans if the first choice plans got wrong, and he had not to think about everything himself alone, as he felt the dwarves expected from him in the beginning, although he knew Thorin and some others didn't quite believe in his competence by then. Actually, he didn't either.

The hobbit waited patiently, ignoring Iris' endless chatting while caressing her hair in his lap and looking from the stone wall to the west, and from the west to the stone wall. Thorin was quiet, too, explaining little details of dwarven lore, culture and history to Lily, who grabbed every bit of information and associated it to the knowledge she already had, to reinforce it. Bilbo envied their seemingly smooth relationship, but then Lily was a bit older than her sister, and Thorin had a way of dealing with people that Bilbo simply didn't. Maybe it was what people called _kingship_. Iris was special to him, but sometimes he felt himself just a big ear, someone to hear her uneven chatting; there were pearls in what she said, but sometimes he had a feeling that she just needed someone to pay her attention. He could not remember if he ever had been this way in his _betweens_, and surely none who was that way kept close to him time enough time for him to get used to it. But how to explain this without hurting her feelings? Albeit all this, she was more than he could expect from any Shire girl, and he knew it.

The sun was setting. An almost black thrush flew down to the square stone with a snail in its beak and knocked it to the stone, startling Bilbo. He saw the direction the setting sun light took, and how it got almost between a stone fork the hobbit noticed when the thrush came down.

"Thorin!"

The dwarf looked at him, startled, and Lily sat up, eager to see what was happening.

"Where is your key? Get the key, we might be on the edge of time!"

Thorin got it from a gold chain around his neck, trembling. He motioned something to Lily and she and Iris went at once to call the Company. Bilbo simply didn't get acquainted with the dwarves' sign language and shook his head. The sun sunk lower until it was enshrouded by a red belt of clouds. The thin, almost indistinguishable line of the new moon made its way into the horizon; evening was coming. They spirits sunk into their boots with the setting sun, for there was no means to grant they keyhole could be found if the sun didn't shine on it exactly that day. Then a distant wind made its way through the clouds, and a thin red gleam of sunlight came and shone upon the rock face. The Company held their breath.

The thrush eyed the dwarves stepping on his snail-banging rock and sang for some seconds, in protest; a small flake of rock split from the wall and fell, with a loud crack. About three feet from the ground a hole appeared, slightly lined with a shine that wasn't quite earthly. Thorin run for it and stuck the key in the hole. At the same moment the dwarf king turned the key, the sun sank and the moon was gone, but in front of them a thin silvery line draw a door, five feet high and three broad, as was written in Thrór's map. The closer dwarves helped to push, and without a sound the door swung inwards, revealing them a dark tunnel into the heart of the Mountain.

Some of them wanted to hastily lit a torch to get in and not to stumble on anything, as they felt sure inside the tunnel Smaug would not have knowledge of their presence, but Balin reminded them of the dragon's sense of smell, that gave them lots of headaches while planning the retake of Erebor. They waited for their eyes to adjust to the complete darkness and advanced carefully. Thorin was tense, but would rather die than show. They felt the walls, roof and floor, and knew it was a perfect rectangle where the hobbits could walk at ease, most of the dwarves would have no problem at all and the elf would have to stoop to walk in.

"It is still early night, what is the next move?" Dwalin asked Thorin, while they stepped out again, propping the door open with a small boulder and sitting in a tight circle. Everyone wanted to hear what their king had to say, but he only rehearsed what they already had planned.

"We must be rested to make everything that must be done in time to take Smaug by surprise, so there is no reason to hurry. We will get all our stuff inside the Door, this can be done in silence, and someone goes warn Bombur of what we found. We sleep this night after the stuff is put away."

"I go warn my brother!" Offered Bofur, to what Thorin nodded.

"You stay by him and tomorrow morning you both feed the ponies Óin's stuff, mind you that they must eat the packs whole, not munch on it, and then we haul you both up with the rope. In the meanwhile our burglar will get in and stir the dragon for it to get out of the Mountain and eat the ponies; as soon as we have a sign that Smaug is aroused we hurry in, and down the tunnel, one member of each team carrying a charcoal sac. Then we divide to conquer, whatever our elf means with this, in the five preset teams." Thorin called each team, one's name and the team target. "Blue Ant Team. This is me, Ori, Nori and Fili; we will find the kegs and take them to the saltpeter and brimstone stores to use them to transport it; Grey Leppard Team are Dori, Dwalin, Glóin, Kili and Bombur, who are to find the saltpeter and regrind it if needed; Yellow Eagle Team are Balin and Lily, who are to find and regrind the brimstone, this team is only of two because we will need much less brimstone than saltpeter, if Iris' measures are right, which we all hope; Black Buzzard Team are Óin, Bofur and Bifur, who have the most disgusting of the tasks, to find Smaug's toilet; and Red Jackdaw team, who are Bilbo, Iris and Ellen, who will make their best and fastest to keep all of us informed of what is happening with the other teams. Remember to put on your worst clothes tomorrow, we'll possibly never be able to use them again; metal armor can be cleansed, though."

Instinctively the members of each team gathered together, eyeing the other teams to acknowledge who they were and what they would be doing the next day; and, in the deep of their hearts, hoping against hope that they would all end the day alive. They were on their own, no wizard nor any other help to count on, and a living dragon which destroyed their realm and the human town close to it more than a century ago.

After dining and moving their stuff inside the tunnel, Kili and Ellen managed to runaway a bit on themselves, as from the bay there was a path that led uphill a little while. They knew for a long time that this moment would come, when the actual struggle against Smaug would be at hand, so this was the last night they were sure each other was alive, and they knew not for how long. The stars shone wild in the dark night, as they lay on their backs on the bare hill, hand in hand. He broke the silence.

"Are you scared?"

Ellen took a moment to answer.

"I am." She sighed. "I'd rather face a whole shareholders board to announce a bankruptcy than to face what we have to tomorrow."

"We will not even be on the same team." He was annoyed.

"Maybe it is better this way, we could get distracted if seeing the other at risk. But I'll be running all over the place, we will be able to see each other a bit, I deem. And when things are ready we will all be in the hoard waiting for our prey. And you?"

"Me what?"

"Are you scared?"

Kili took in a deep breath.

"I am not supposed to be. I am a Durin's heir."

"Put your masks down, it is just you and me."

She changed a hair strand from place on his forehead. He rolled on his side and caressed her face with a finger, his emerald eyes dark with worry.

"I'm afraid. I'm afraid we will die, and our souls will never meet again because we haven't had a Compromise Speech and I'm a dwarf and you are an elf; I'm afraid you will die and I'll suffer night and day like I know Mother suffers in silence since Father died; I'm afraid I will die and you will find another one, because you are not a dwarf, you are not bound to love only once in life."

"Don't you trust my dwarven-heart, Kili son of Dís?" She reached for his hair and run her fingers through them. "I swear by the stars of Varda that shine upon us, that it is you and only you that I love, and no one else will ever take your place, that was forged into my heart."

Kili leaned down and kissed her, hungry.

"I wish I already had my First Time with you."

"We didn't find a way in Lake-Town, where we had even sleeping rooms, what to say of having a chance in the wild?" The elf sighed. "Yep, one more kick for us to try to stay alive tomorrow!"

Then it hit her. He said '_my _FirstTime', not '_our_ First Time'. It explained a lot that didn't fit before. Ellen realized she was dealing with a seventy-seven years old _virgin_! She had to be sure.

"Kili, do you mean... your First Time... _ever_?"

He blinked, shyly, with half a smile on the corner of his lips. One of the things that made Kili so appealing to Ellen was exactly that look of innocence, albeit all he could show himself mischievous and cheeky when he wanted, and the dwarf knew exactly what to do to make her want more. Now the elf knew it was not just the look. She caressed his stumble of beard and he looked down at her.

"Kili?"

"I tried to tell you, but you said it was "_not_ _completely different_", and you were so angry..."

Ellen was ashamed now for that day before Mirkwood.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"You don't have to apologize. It doesn't matter anymore, I'm over it."

"I thought..."

"I know what you thought. That I was like most male are. But this is serious matter to me. It is not because I know how to kiss you and to touch you that you can judge me as if I would spend my seed with someone less than fit to bear an heir to Durin's line. One that did not chose me. "

He laid himself down again, hands under his head, looking at the stars.

"And now we are hours from fighting a dragon and only Mahal knows if we will be alive at the end of the day."

She propped herself up on one elbow and send him an apologetic gaze.

"Kili...are you angry at me?"

He chuckled.

"If I should be angry at anyone, it would be at your brothers, resolute in keep your chastity safe from me."

The elf sat up and looked at him, a mischievous smile in her lips.

"Kili, do you think we have time?"

"Time for what?"

"To... _do something_... before my watchdog brothers come looking for us?"

His eyes grew wide.

"What... but where? How? When?"

"Here, now! We can be creative, don't you think so?"

The dwarf sat up, bustling.

"Are you crazy?"

The elf pushed him down to the ground, laughingly.

"Gotcha!"

"Wait! I'll take a _security measure_, as you say."

Kili sat and joined his hands in front of his mouth and sent out a hoot that reminded Ellen of an owl with hiccups. A similar sound answered from not very far away.

"What's this?"

He looked at her with the mischievous smile she was used to.

"I asked Fili to warn us if any _watchdog_ comes looking for us. Me and my brother have our own whistle codes."

"And now..."

He held her closer, reaching for her warm skin under her loose chemise, making her ear prickle with his stumble beard as he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Now we hurry with what should be done slowly, if you swear you really want it, because I don't want to hurt you but I don't know how much I can refrain myself."

The elf shivered, and it was not from the cold. Her hands run his body over his clothes, feeling his tough muscles and more under her fingers, her voice betraying her urgency, glazed eyes shining dangerously at him.

"You won't hurt me, silly; just take me! I have waited for you for so long..."

His hands stopped for a moment and then Kili gazed deep into her eyes; a bit of jealousy twinkled in dark green and then was gone, replaced with a slight smile.

"One can always take advantage in what seemed to be a disservice..."

Even lacking experience, Kili knew exactly what to do to her, and a delighted Ellen found out their difference in height didn't matter at all regarding _other measures_; actually, she felt as if her long time _out of business_ was reflecting itself as if her elven body was renewed to an '_almost no business done'_ state, and she felt him fit her perfectly, the dark haired dwarf claiming her as his own in a way no one ever had done to her. She bit her lower lip muffling a moan and he stopped, frowning.

"What is wrong? Are you fine?"

"I _was_ fine, but you just put me on _murder mode_!" Complained the elf.

"What do you mean?"

"If you dare to stop again, I'll kill you!"

It was an occasion of too much clothes and too little time, but plenty of hankering and desire, and the young couple was soon over it, panting hard and yearning for more. Kili run his fingers through Ellen's hair, smiling, a different shine in his eyes.

"Now I'm ready to kill a dragon!"

Fili whistled like a drunken thrush and they hurried to pull up their pants and straighten their clothes before heading back to the camp, satisfied smiles in their faces. If they survived Smaug, they'd find out ways to fool the watchdogs again make things _very slowly_ next time.

Smaug couldn't remember how long he had slept, as time was not a matter for him anymore. Being the oldest, not to say the last and only one of his race, gave him the leisure to skip thinking about banal things like _time_. Actually, he was in no need to think about anything at all since he found that comfortable gold bed he enjoyed so much, and he could sleep at will between one and another meal, that could stand decades one from the other.

But then a distant noise disturbed his dreams of greed and violence, and an eye fluttered open. There was nothing to be seen, but there was a smell, yes, a smell he didn't know before. He sought for the source of the smell, and could see nothing; but it was there, yes, as sure as his bed was made of gold. He eyed the main and only entrance of his lair, large enough for him to pass after he made some reconstruction to fit it to his size, but there was nothing to be seen, and he could not smell anything coming that way, either. Where from that smell could be coming?

A slight gust of fresh air reminded him of the small hole in the wall, that he didn't bother to close for its insignificance. The smell came from that direction, he was sure. Smaug sniffed and spoke.

"No need to hide, smelly thing, I know you are there."

Of course he didn't speak in any ordinary form, but more like what Bilbo felt with Galadriel in Imladris; only that she just looked into his mind, and Smaug _spoke_ into it. He got scared, with a lot of reason. But then, that's what he was there to, to stir the dragon, and stir the dragon he would, even if right now he was so scared that he couldn't utter a word.

"Has a cat eaten your tongue, smelly? I can eat more than your tongue if you don't have better manners than to enter my home and hide as a rat. Have you come to steal my property?"

"I..." Bilbo stammered. "I came to see if the legends are true, o Smaug the Great Calamity!"

"Ah, so you have tongue to speak, huh?" He was amused for having got his prey to speak. "And what legends do you refer, smelly?"

"The legends of your magnificent waistcoat of fine diamonds and gems; words run that thou art the most astounding of the dragons of all times, and the wealthiest."

It was always good to cajole a great worm; at least it amused him and made him less ready to incinerate anyone. It was working.

"The legends are true, smelly, as you can see by yourself."

Smaug spread out his wings to show his chest and belly, really astoundingly covered with gold and precious gems. Bilbo noticed a small patch on his left upper chest where some stones were missing, either for not having been attached yet or for having fallen in Smaug's sleep; it didn't matter, it was a weak spot nonetheless.

"Now, smelly, you know a lot about me, and I don't know even your name, nor where you came from. It would be only fair to let me know a bit about you."

Bilbo was not a fool, albeit never having handled a dragon personally, and he knew better than to expose himself and the rest of the Company.

"I came from faraway, from over hill and under hill, from forest and from river, and through the air!"

"It is a lot to come from, but this doesn't tell me your name. Who are you, smelly? Or am I to call you "Smelly" until I eat you?"

"No need to eat me, o Smaug the Tremendous! I'd be nothing but a little nuisance to your mighty jaws, not worthy to be munched by your sword sharp teeth!"

"But you disturbed my sleep, Smelly, and now I'm inclined to have a meal. Say your name, I like to know who I'm eating!"

The pressure of Smaug's words inside Bilbo's head was pounding, and the hobbit knew he had to do something fast.

"To eat me you will have to catch me first, o Smaug the Mighty, and the hooves I'm upon are faster than Rhosgobel rabbits!"

The pounding eased a bit, mixed with doubt. Bilbo let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Fast hooves, hmm? We will see if you will be fast after I eat the owner of the hooves, mister Smelly!"

With that the dragon headed for his passageway and left the hoard, not before sending a mighty spout of fire in the direction of the small hole. Bilbo ran, but not fast enough not to get scorched a bit, and it took a long time after his adventure for the hair on the back of his head and heels to grow again. Anyway, they were succeeding, and Bilbo found the Company heading down the tunnel as planned.

Smaug was completely annoyed. It was unpleasant enough to have some smelly thing visiting his hoard with no inviting, and then he couldn't even _see_ the smelly thing; he should have taken care of that rat hole ages ago. He made his way to the front Gate of Erebor and flew to the opening he made above the balcony for his convenience. Then he flew high and circled the mountain somewhat bellow the snow level, as it was unlikely that any horse would ride that high, and it gave him a good view of the surroundings. He spotted his prey.

To his surprise, it was not only one horse, but a horse and several ponies along. They must have been loosely tied up, as they broke into a run easily when they heard his thunderous wings approaching. That meant that Smelly fellow was not alone, no lone thief needed a whole herd of ponies to steal his treasure, albeit it would be needed much more than that much of ponies to carry even a small amount of his possessions. Anyway, he would eat the horse and ponies for lunch and _Smelly_ as dessert.

It took him not long to complete his slaughter, and felt a bit heavy for that amount of horsemeat warming up his belly, as he flew back to his favorite spot on the south-east spur of the mountain to watch a bit. It was a nice morning to eat ponies, and Smaug felt a good draught of river water would do him good; sometimes he even had some fish along with the water. He flew down to the River Running bank and drank what he wanted, chuckling when a fish shook its tail against his throat. Smaug burped.

Funny, he didn't remember eating pony and burping salad before. Actually, he _never_ ate salad before. His stomach seemed to be going unsettled; better go back home. _Smelly_ would not go far without his horse, and it would be a nice chase; he didn't enjoy himself that much since he took Erebor from the dwarves. Dwarves. It could be good to eat dwarf again, it had been so long, but where to find dwarf to eat? They were not nice guys, they've gone away and never came back to play with him again. Not nice, not nice dwarves at all.

Smaug left the ground to reach the entrance above the Gate and his right wing bumped into the dwarven figure carving, splintering some stone flakes to the ground several feet below. Funny, he didn't remember when he hit something unwillingly before. He descended a bit further from the Gate and walked slowly to his den. The salad was not doing good to him, he was sure. Now, where could _Smelly_ be? If he was inside his house, he would roast him a little before eating him. Just to improve the taste.

But this could wait, right now he was sleepy, and his gold bed was calling for him, and he should not have eaten all those ponies in just one meal. Now it was too late, and Smaug burped salad again, to his disgust, while getting so sleepy he had doubled sight, and stumbled into his den like a drunken lizard. He farted loudly, and laughed at his own sound. The hoard would be smelly for days, but he was not able to worry about it right then. Time to close that rat hole before another smelly one came out of it. He headed for the far wall, stumbling on a metal barrel. Where did that keg come from? Smaug sniffled at it but all that he could smell was his own fart. Disgusting.

Another try for the wall and something got the corner of his eye, a small movement, no more than a glimpse of a fluttering bat behind a gold pile a hundred yards away. He blinked to try to better his doubled sight and a fly bit him. A fly, it could only be a fly that hit his eye, and he tried to rub the injured eye with his front paw, doing more harm than good. At least he had no more double sight, because only his other eye was working properly. Unfortunately, another fly stuck into his nostril, making him sneeze. It was getting awkward enough for him to perceive something strange was going on. Where were that flies coming from? He guessed.

"Smelly! Smelly, come out here where I can smell you properly!"

His head was dizzy, but the pain in his eye and nostril awakened him a bit. He noticed more kegs around him, and they smelled... his own dung? What was his dung doing in his bedroom? Too little kegs for him to take them in his paws and carry away, it would be better to deal with that absurd _dragon style_, as incineration was always an option. He took in a deep breath and fired.


	2. Chapter 29 – Nobody Home

Not all of the gunpowder kegs exploded as the Company wished, nor did they explode with all the might expected, but it was enough to damage Smaug's eardrums and make him more instable; a lot of his chest diamond coat fell down also, exposing more of his soft underbelly, already wounded by some keg scraps, and for the first time he could remember, Smaug really felt _pain_.

Having hid behind the larger treasure piles and stone pillars showed itself the best the Company could have done to avoid being collateral of their own explosive attack. Smaug was confused, momentarily vulnerable, and they seized that chance to destroy him. Each warrior made his best to reach him and have his share of slaying, even at the risk of getting hurt. The dragon was completely confused, as he felt no smell besides his own dregs filth and could see nothing with one eye and blurred images with the other; he tried to figure out what was all that about so he could at least take what revenge he still could. His disturbed body burped salad again, and Smaug thought of the ponies. He didn't know the smell of Smelly, but he knew the smell from where the ponies had come. Lake-Town.

He roared in his anger and slowly tried to make his way to the passage to get away from there and from that stupid warriors. They could steal his hoard, maybe, but they would have nowhere to go back home, he would grant it. Thorin was closest to the passage when the dragon came, and his heavy steps unbalanced the gold mould he was upon, making him sway and lose the grip on Orcrist, which fell and slid away on the pile of gold; he saw the elf close by and shouted.

"Ellen, _Lócënehtar_!"

The elf saw what happened and ran to him; she was no match for Smaug's steps, even if he was slower than normal, but managed to reach her sword to the dwarf with a cry.

"At your service!"

Thorin took its wide handle in both hands to use it as mounting sword and ran, wielding the sword as a spear and stuck it deep in dragon's belly, then rolled to his side to avoid the dragon's backstab. Fili managed to pull Thorin from out of the firebreath range just in time. Smaug got away.

It was hard for them to hold Thorin, who wanted to go after him, and managed it only because they saw that Smaug was taking small flights to get away from them faster.

"He is gone!" Was Blain's relieved sigh.

"But he is not dead." Replied Thorin darkly.

"But he is poisoned and wounded. He may die yet."

"We cannot count on this. We must make for the Front Gate and set watch. He can be back at any moment." Thorin turned to his companions. "Anybody hurt? Scorched?"

Iris complaining voice came quietly to him.

"No, just filthy, filthy, filthy, I never felt so filthy in my whole life!"

Everybody laughed. They were all filthy, like they never dreamed of ever be, but yes, it was better to smell dragon dung than to be smelled, found and munched by one. His complete disorientation after he lost one eye and could smell nothing that was not himself granted them what success they had, plus the poisoning by datura. It was a pity having lost the ponies, but they would been lost anyway if Smaug got them, so at least their death had a good purpose.

"We make for the Gate, set watch and see if it is already time to wash. I don't want Smaug to come back and smell dwarf, let us keep him confused as long as we may." Thorin looked at his loyal companions, willing to follow him into the very claws of a dragon. "We can wash our faces and hands, at least; we will go up until the birth of River Running, and from there to the Gate."

Thorin indeed knew every passage and every turn of the palace, and they paced behind him with the aid of the cleverly spread out light Erebor's architecture provided. They finally made it. They were inside Erebor, and the dragon was gone for good. They would have to be alert, but now they knew he was defeasible, and he was hurt.

Now the women could understand what it really meant when they heard someone say 'mighty halls'. Everything was huge, impressive, majestic.

The main hall got light from the wide and high main windows above the gates. This light was spread by the clever use of mirrors and crystals, making it unnecessary to light a single candle along the day. The houses, manufactories and stores had no roof, for it was not needed to keep off the rain, and used the widespread light as well. In the dwellings, the bedrooms used to have articulated roofs, for darkness to sleep and for privacy's sake. Where the main windows' lights could not reach, funnels were made so as to bring light in, using the same mirror and crystal devices.

At night, or in cloudy days, series of candles were lit so as to use the same system. In addition to be masters of stone and metal, the dwarves were masters in _optics_. Everything was covered with far too many years of dust, and the Company was thinking about to camp just like if they were doing out in the open. But there was far too much dirt, light dust, that spread out in clouds when they walked.

It was a long and weary walk, as the adrenaline level lowered in their blood and the staircases walled in front of them, but they made it in time to see a last gleam of sunlight through the balcony's windows. Twenty-four hours before they were waiting for the Back Door to show itself. Now they were inside their retaken realm. It was a worthy Durin's Day indeed. Bilbo smiled.

"I never dreamed of looking through this window from inside."

"And we wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, my dear friend." Thorin slapped his shoulder, warmly. "It took the courage of a son of the Shire to stir the dragon."

"You would have found a way if I weren't here, I am sure."

The hobbit shook off the praise. He wasn't used to much incense and felt better without it.

"The sun in sinking, we'd best find a safe place to camp; this balcony is too much open and exposed."

Balin remembered the last time he stood on that balcony and Smaug's fire almost roasted him.

"We can use the guardhouse opposite to the side where Smaug bored that hole." Dwalin offered. "So we will be close to the entrance but inside a safe place, and then close to this watch post."

"It can be a good idea for this night, tomorrow we will see what happens."

"What is that, down river?"

Ellen narrowed her eyes to have a better sight of the red lights she saw. In minutes it expanded to be seen even by the dwarves, as red and yellow tongues of flame lightened the distance.

"Lake-Town." Thorin mumbled. "Smaug has reached them."

"We must hope they had a chance."

"They took the risk of helping us, and we tried to warn and help them as we could. There's nothing else to be done."

A thrush landed on the balcony and sang merrily, contrasting with the Company's moods as they thought of what could have become of Lake-Town and it's people.

Smaug swore in all known and unknown languages Middle-Earth had ever heard of, while flying his way downriver to have his revenge. It was not fair what was done to him. An invisible Smelly guy and a gang of dung smelling thieves had the insolence of stealing into his home and put bursting kegs in his own bedroom; no, it was not fair. Lake-Town pony owners would have their pay, oh they would, most of all if the horizon stopped to dance before his eye. Whatever salad the ponies ate definitely was not doing good for him. He hiccoughed, and a flame spurted out, involuntarily. By the dark dungeons of Morgoth, this was not going on well. Smaug hiccoughed again, his belly hurting where one of the _dunglings_ hit him deep. He almost got that insolent, but it was hard to find him on the side he lost sight. If it weren't for that blasted blast kegs his armor would be whole and nothing of this would have happened.

He didn't remember Lake-Town was so distant, was it? But then it had been many years since he had a dinner with that people. Or, better saying, since he had _dinned_ that people. Smaug tried to focus on the river, the river, the river would take him where he wanted, he didn't have to think about it, it was just following the river and everything would be all right. The river was his friend, the river was cute, it had fishes, nice fishes, and... and the river was far too close and Smaug made an emergency water landing, spilling water all around in great waves, and, oh, Glaurung, that hurt! He hurried to make himself out of the water again, burped salad and hiccoughed fire, and then flew unevenly in the general direction of Lake-Town, now that he was on the lake it was much more easier to get lost even following the river, because it went so wide...

Lake-Town people had not been idle. When Bard came down from rowing the dwarven Company to the Desolation of Smaug's borders he went straight to the Master and explained what could have to become. As expected, the fat fool didn't listen to him, only counting on what rewards the dwarves would have for him when they fulfilled their mission, as they were an elite squad astoundingly well armed, and armored and supplied by himself, and this was bound to grant him some wealth, he was sure. What his people might be going through he didn't care, just as the dwarves said to Bard. Weird it was that strangers knew more about the leader of his town that he himself; but then, he guessed it all along, and wasn't that surprised at all.

He sought for help where he could find it. Knowing the threat that could approach his town any time from now on, Bard used what influence he could, amongst his town-guard colleagues, his neighbors, but the best ally he found was unexpected. When he mentioned that there was a chance of the dragon to attack their town the healer who prescribed horseleech to Bilbo embraced the cause as if it were his own son who had gone to the Lonely Mountain, and made a pilgrimage amongst his patients present and past to explain the risk that was at hand, and what was there to be done. Several tradesman bought the cause too, as they were so well treated by the women of the Company, who in no moment ever questioned the high prices they put on the goods they wanted to buy; so, even with no backing from its Master, most of Lake-Town was alert to the upcoming menace, and a lot of eyes were set to the north looking for fire, the sign that they would have to put their escaping plans into action.

The food merchants understood the opportunity and dealt supplies fairly, else they would be burned; the ones dealing with non-perishable supplies wanted their stores to be safe, and else moved or dealt them fairly too; albeit the upcoming winter, most people was willing to move to tents they deemed safe in the borders of Mirkwood Forest, as they had dealings with the wooden elves, expecting it would be a temporary move. So, when Smaug at least reached Lake-Town, burning its empty buildings, it was almost a ghost town, dwelt for few but Bard and his guard, his own faithful company, ready to land their arrows on the attacking dragon like they would never deem possible. They looked up at the unbalanced dragon's bleeding belly and shot at will.

The Company was having another cold meal, as they dared not yet to light a fire until they were sure Smaug would not come back. They had brought only a little of their supplies to the balcony's guardroom, as the next day they would have a better measure of what was happening, and paced the watching space often, because it was how they could get any news from what Samug could be doing. Ellen, admitting herself as the strategic planer of the Company, felt completely responsible for any death Smaug could accomplish in Lake-Town, and could not take her eyes from the south view, not even to bite some cram. Thorin himself came trying to ease her worries, although he was as uneasy as her.

"Be at ease, elf. What we have done changed the course of history, for good or for evil. I know you are kind of feeling yourself responsible for everyone and everything, but you can't take the world on your shoulders." She looked at him, her eyes hurt. "I must admit it could have been worse, but for you. At least we had a plan, and they had a warning." He added, making a gesture towards Lake-Town.

"I wish I could have news from downriver people."

Ellen's eyes were downcast, her voice quiet. Thorin tried to handle her.

"There are things we cannot change. What is past, is past, and we have to live with it."

Thorin said this out of his personal experience, of all the losses and wars he had been through; the very loss of Erebor, the six year war against the orcs that ended in the battle of Azanulbizar, and...

The elf felt dizzy, and shook her head between her hands, a disturbed look in her eyes. Thorin didn't know what to do, but helped her to sit herself to the floor, dizzy and confused.

"What is going on? What have you done to my sister?"

Balin was close to them in no moment at all.

"I've done nothing!"

"No, it is all right, brother!" The elf managed to speak. "It is just..." She shook her head.

"You are safe, amongst family, sister."

Balin eased her head on his shoulder, like if she were a child and not an elf almost the double of his height. She breathed deep, reassuring herself.

"The past was changed." Ellen managed to say, after some minutes of disturbed silence. Then, dimly, she smiled. "It would have been worse; I don't know what has happened in Lake-Town tonight, but it would have been worse, there would have been dead people, maybe there are, but we sent Smaug hurt and poisoned, not in his full strength as he would have gone." The elf gazed at Thorin. "It would have been Bilbo's doing, all you'd accomplished until now would have been Bilbo's doing. Please don't forget this!"

"You must rest."

The white bearded dwarf helped the elf up, giving Thorin a meaningful glance. He shook his head, annoyed. He was barely able to deal with what he could see, what about the member of his Company that saw what none else could?

Next day some of them made a trek to Ravenhill, the old watch post in the southern spur, while others went back to the Back Door tunnel to bring more supplies closer to the front Gate and other yet kept watch on the balcony. The Gate was broken, it was true, but they managed to clear out some rubbish and open a small crack, wide enough for them to pass but little more, and the access was easier from inside than from outside.

Dwalin guided the ones who got outside, as he knew the lay of the land and the fastest way to reach the advanced watch post. Balin wanted his sister to stay in the balcony, because of the former night dizziness, but she insisted that she would be fine outside, that the light of the sun would do her good, and Kili would be with her just in case. Ori and Bofur wanted to go with them, too, curious about their new home surroundings; it was a fact that Bofur was born in Erebor, albeit his family had come from Khazad-Dum before its fall, but he was a dwarfling when Smaug came, and remembered little, and surely he never got to Ravenhill.

It was a long trek, almost three hours at a good pace, but the morning was chilly from the upcoming winter, and they reached the watch post in good mood. Being outside diluted somewhat the dragon dung smell they all bore still, as to disguise them from Smaug if he ever came back.

The high place had an overwhelming view, far and wide and beautiful, if one ignored the charred land closer to the Mountain, but it was possible to imagine how it would be when the green came back, when the land would be healed, when life would spring from the earth and from inside Erebor. It was more than to retake a hoard or to get rid of a dragon, it was rebuilding a realm, having a place for a people to dwell and grow, in their righteous place, not in exile. A thrush sang close by.

"If I were a bit more paranoid, I'd say this bird is stalking us."

"He may be, Sister, as thrushes have been friends to dwarves from old times already."

"Isn't this watch post name wrong, then?" Asked Kili. "I can see no raven around. It should be Thrush-hill!"

"There were ravens here in our time; I don't know what has become of them, but they could even communicate with us. Probably Smaug ate them. They were of an ancient and long living line, they could reach a hundred years or more."

The thrush flew somewhere downhill, and they looked around for any sign of threat. A dark cloud seemed to be forming in the north, and some birds were coming from the south, as they had seen all the morning long.

"Will we put this watch post in use right away, Dwalin? We are too few to be scattered in many places."

"You are right, lad. This is only a reconnaissance outing, we will go back now and report."

The thrush came back, singing angrily in front of Dwalin.

"This little fellow didn't like your speech, brother!"

"What a pity I don't have the knack of understanding what he sings; it is told that there were dwarves who could understand them, but aye, I'm not one of them."

The delay the thrush provided was enough for an old battered and tired looking raven to fly to the battlement wall and land right in front of them; it was an enormous raven, but after seeing the Misty Mountains' Eagles, nothing was very impressive anymore. Ellen thought that Edgar Allan Poe wouldn't dream of a better pet. A harsh sound came from the black bird, to everyone's surprise.

"I am Roäc, son of Carc."

"Carc!" Dwalin was startled. "Carc was the Chief of the ravens of Ravenhill! How is it possible? What's become of your father?"

"We flew away before we got roasted." The raven spoke again. "Carc flies in another sky now, for more than fifty years already."

"This is sad news! May your feathers never fall, Roäc, my friend!"

"The thrush told me of you, of what you have been doing all this days long, and I have news for you, news from the south."

"What do you have to tell us, noble Roäc?"

"The birds are coming back to live in the Lonely Mountain; the fire-breathing beast is no more."

"What do you mean? Speak clearly, bird!"

"It has always been easy to make a dwarf to lose his temper, my father told me, but I couldn't imagine it would take just one phrase to turn from "_noble Roäc_" to "_bird_"!"

"Ouch, I'm sorry, please forgive my outburst!"

"Apologies accepted."

"So, now, what may you mean with the wise words you presented us, o noble Roäc?"

"My father also told it was funny to see a dwarf trying to make amends."

Dwalin took a deep breath.

"It might be."

"The dragon is dead. Lake-people killed him with arrows. He burned down the town, but the people got away in time. Erebor is yours."

The mighty dwarf had to fight himself not to hug the bird and kiss his beak. Instead he bowed low and produced a silver bead out of his pocked. Ellen had a feeling the dwarves used to have silver beads in their pockets like a kid would have chewing gums, or marbles. The raven took the gift and flew away.


	3. Chapter 30 - Going Home

Thorin was eager to get to the hoard, but too much worried about the possible return of Smaug to leave the balcony watch post. So it was that he didn't accompany the ones who went to bring the supplies that were left in the tunnel, and didn't see when Bilbo stumbled on his own feet and fell hands forward on a gold pile, from where he retreated wide eyed with a huge gem in his hand, immediately and carefully hidden in his cloak.

The ones who had gone to Ravenhill came back in a hurry with their news. The only delay was to jump into the first patch of the river that was reachable to take off the most of the dragon dung they could, even if some outer layer of cloth was simply cast away. The water was icy cold, but anything was better than to smell dragon dung. So it was that Thorin saw his companions come back less stinky and knew there were good news.

Dwalin told him Roäc's speech, avoiding the embarrassing parts, which Kili would make sure to be known by everyone. The ones who were with Thorin in the balcony were overjoyed, and as soon as there was a sign of the ones bringing back their supplies Fili shouted to them.

"Time to take a bath!"

Iris dropped whatever she was carrying and jumped into River Running springs, completely forgotten that hobbits don't swim, but was quickly rescued by Glóin, who happened to be close by. She then sat at the bank and washed away every bit of filth she was able to, along with Bilbo, while the dwarves jumped into the running water the way they were. The ones in the balcony joined them soon, but for Kili and Ellen, who had already jumped into the river when coming back from Ravenhill and used the need of someone to be at watch to grant them a bit time alone, albeit in sight of the others.

"I have lots of Lake-Town soap yet, when someone comes to surrender us I'll find a more secluded branch of the river for me and the girls to take a proper bath and change clothes. I'll leave some soap bars here for you and the guys, too."

"Hmm, good smelling elf is my favorite!" Kili teased her, laughingly.

"Anything but dragon dung smelling dwarf is my favorite!"

"Would it be better to have someone to watch over you while you bath, for your own safety, don't you think so?"

Kili's cheeky smile was priceless.

"Even if I agree with you, what do you think my brothers would do? First we had your uncle to keep us apart, now we have my brothers concerned with my chastity like if I were a teenager, even if they don't know it is useless. So now we have two watchdogs instead of one!"

The dwarf eyed her with a sudden worry.

"Keep them believing it is not useless, else they will eat my liver with onions!"

A thoroughly clean Company made their first hot meal in days uncounted, and then begun to plan for the rest of the day. To spend another night at that guardhouse was unthinkable, as it got entrenched with dragon dung stench, and they were pondering where it would best to camp.

"Why don't we go to my house?"

Thorin invited them, a wide grin on his face. As matter of fact, it seemed that the grumpy dwarf face had vanished completely, now that years of worry were lifted from upon his shoulders.

"It is here close by, it has enough room for all of us, and it may be less clogged with dust than in the open halls. Come, let us go to my house!"

Now that he said, it seemed obvious to the women. That _had_ been their house, at least to most of them. Fili, Kili and Ori were born in exile, and Nori and Bofur were kids when the dragon came, but Erebor was the place the dwarves had dwelt, worked, played, _lived_ until a hundred and some years ago. And now they were back home.

They gathered their things and followed Thorin to the house were he was born and dwelt with his parents, his grandfather, his brother and sister. Then it stuck him that from all of them only his sister remained alive. He looked at his nephews, her sons, and was glad that they both were there with him. They had been his pride and joy since when they were toddlers, it was only fair that they'd be beside him in his moment of fulfillment.

And then there was Lily, his white flower, found in the wild. When things were settled, he would send word for a Mahal's priest and have her as his rightful wife and queen. They could marry along with Kili and Ellen, it would be a celebration to be remembered for years. It would have to wait until Dís could come, of course, she would never forgive him and Kili if she weren't there for the weddings. With good roads, no goblins and no Mirkwood elves, it could take up to a whole year for someone to reach Ered Luin and get back with his sister. It would not matter, one year was little considering all that there was to be done, cleansed, fixed...

Thorin's head was lost in his thoughts when they reached his former house, and it brought him back to reality with a shock. His warrior mind had kept the memory of the destruction Smaug brought to Erebor in a macro way, the big picture, the great flight for their lives when their fight was useless. He himself marching with the other warriors to the gate the dragon was about to assault, believing they could do something to protect their realm. The dragon trampling on them as if they were ants. His struggle to get his grandfather away from the hoard in time to save him.

But, although his rational mind knew, in a way, how things really were, his heart was not ready for what he saw and mostly for what he felt when he pulled open and entered the door of the house of his childhood and youth. To each side of the door statues as high as the dwelling walls height guarded it, one to the resemblance of Durin and the other the image of Mahal.

There was a large living room, with a hearth encircled by wrought iron couches where silken cushions laid rotten, as rotten were the tapestries on the walls and floor. There his grandfather, Thrór, King Under the Mountain, used to forget his daily burdens, and rejoiced to be among his family, and sometimes his closest friends; there Thrór spoiled him, his brother and his sister, giving them gold coins for every question he made that they answered correctly; there Thráin, his father, gave him and his brother some lessons of how to behave, because they really had to get that lessons. One of the reasons he was so close to his nephews albeit they got him crazy sometimes was because he himself and his brother were not at all different brats. The chair close to the kitchen's door where his mother used to sit to make her sewings and embroideries, because she said there was the best light to see the tread; a small chair was beside hers, he could almost see Dís sitting there with her dolls. Everything was covered in dust. Less dust than out there in the open halls, but, anyway, the dust of time.

Thorin said nothing, but his stance, his wandering eyes, told more to his companions than any word would tell. Balin, who used to be one of Thráin's closest friends, and used to be around that house before Smaug came, and actually was saved from one of the first dragon's fire breaths by Thorin himself, came close to his king, feeling almost the same pain.

"My lord, are you sure it would be fitted to stay here?"

He saw Thorin shutting his eyes for a moment, and then clenching his fists, regaining composure.

"Yes, it is. A man has the right to come back to his own house, and to bring in whomever might be at his side." He took a torch and got it lit. "We camp in the main living room for today. I'll see if the other rooms are not damaged. Do not open the roofs, all dust that is on them would fall into the house."

He held the torch up and went into the corridor, alone. The Company knew better than to follow him right now, giving him the time he needed. He walked slowly, letting his memories flood his eyes with grief. There was the music room, and all harp lesson hours he and Frerin took out of his mother's orders, when all they wanted was to play with the other boys their age; the study room, where he himself helped his brother to learn his first runes when the preceptor got sick right in the day Frerin would have his first classes and was so downcast because he wanted so much to learn; Dís' sleeping room, her dolls all over the place... he could almost hear her shrill voice begging him to play with her 'because the princess needs a valiant warrior to go to the ball with her, and you are the most valiant warrior in all Middle-Earth! _Please_!' The same _please_ he heard her say when they were about to leave for the quest. 'Bring my sons back, brother. _Please_!' He took out a small silver box from a shelf, blew the dust from the lid and opened it. The small delicate figure of a dwarf-lass put herself upright, waiting. Thorin winded it up and the small figure swirled to the sound of the delicate music box.

He was about to enter his own bedroom full of memories when Balin came to talk to him, rescuing him from the past. The old dwarf helped him to regain composure, speaking of pressing needs of the Company, gently guiding him out of the family area of the house, wise, loyal Balin.

Dwalin signaled Ellen to his side and spoke quietly.

"Sister, we will get Thorin out of here for a couple of hours. See what you can do with the rest of the Company to make this place inhabitable. He is far too stubborn to accept his soul is downcast from seeing his house in this condition after all this years."

"I understand, brother. Just keep yourself and Balin away from your own house for now, all right?"

"Why?"

"Because there in Imladris I felt the pain of the losses both you and Thorin felt. The pain I see in his eyes now reminds me of it. I don't want you and our older brother to get through this without me at your side."

Dwalin shook his head.

"You shouldn't bother yourself."

"If I don't care for my brothers, what a piece of crap of a sister am I?"

Dwalin laughed and clapped her on the shoulder and then they both hit their foreheads, laughing. Right then Thorin stepped in the middle of the living room with Balin at his side, his face the usual stone mask, composure regained, and Ellen thought it was a heavy burden to be king of a people, dissolving himself on behalf of them, doing what had to be done no matter what his own emotional state was.

"Company, I'm going to see for armor and weaponry in the main guardhouse. Dwalin, Balin, Bilbo, you come with me. Bombur, see for a meal for all of us. Kili, when you surrender Glóin in the watch, tell him to go to the guardhouse too. All others, take some rest."

He left the house followed by his two comrades and the hobbit. Bombur headed to the kitchen.

As soon as his footsteps could no more be heard, it was time for the elf to stand up and clap her hands to gain the Company's attention.

"People, thanks Durin we are no more in the open, but I believe we will rest better when this house is cleaned up a bit. Bombur's junk will taste better if there is no earth in it, too."

"I heard this!" Cried Bombur from the kitchen.

"The ones who lived here before, you know where we can find water, and where to send the trash to. From the rest, two or three to help Bombur cleanse the kitchen and make the meal, the others go clean this room, and if there is still time, the closest rooms. Any doubt?"

Bifur put his hand up and then made a series of gestures and grunts. Ellen was slow at learning his hand signs, but made out one or two words.

"Bofur, can you please translate what your cousin is asking about "_orders_"?"

"Bifur is asking why you are giving us orders."

Bofur seemed amused by his cousin's irritation. Ellen sighed.

"Bifur, dear, I am not giving orders, I am asking for help! Please?"

He crossed his arms and shook his head. Bofur teased him.

"Let it be, Ellen, this senile dwarf here is strong enough to use a boar spear but too frail to handle a broom. We can do without him, let Bifur sit upon his own pile of dirt if he wants."

Bifur made the universal gesture with one finger to him, making the crew laugh out loud. Óin, the senior of them, nearly roared. Then they organized themselves in small teams and parted, each group to his own duty.

Most things were utterly lost, rotten beyond help. Mice too small to bother a dragon had found their way to any stored food, but were long ago gone too. Moths feasted on almost any kind of fabric, although some leather things were still whole, but stiff. Embroideries with silver and gold tread were still undamaged, but the fabric underneath was frail; these Ellen and Lily put away for future use as sample. Bombur found a small fortune in salt, as it was non perishable, and would use some of it to give a different taste to the meal, so often spiceless in the wild. The stew was already smelling delicious when Kili was ready to surrender Glóin in the watch. The main living room was already clean. Dwarves really had a knack in working together that, once put into motion, was quite a sight.

Something like an hour later Thorin and the others were back with a pile of armor in their arms. Bilbo wore a glistening, finely made chainmail, and all of them wore helms. Balin blinked sideways to Dwalin when they reached the front door and smelled wet stone besides Bombur's stew. They stepped in.

The second time Thorin entered the house of his youth after taking back Erebor his face was of surprise, not of dismay. The rotten tapestries and cushions vanished, not a single cobweb was to be seen, the dirt on the floor was gone.

The whole bunch of dwarves plus the hobbit-lass and the elf were there, smiling proudly at him; Fili came forward with a big grin in his face.

"Welcome home, Uncle!"

Thorin put on his grumpy mode face.

"I told you to rest. Who told you to cleanse the house?"

Half a dozen fingers pointed to Ellen, who braced herself for the upcoming storm and gave a step forward. Balin and Dwalin hurried past Thorin and stood beside her.

"I told her to do so!" Spoke out Dwalin.

"And I advised you to visit the guardhouse for it to be done!" It was Blain's turn to stay in her defense.

Thorin shook his head, smiling, much to everyone's relief.

"Blessed be the children of Fundin!" Then he looked up to the elf. "All of them. You three are really forged out from the same alloy!" He slapped Balin's shoulder as he walked past him. "You forgot just one thing, old fellow."

"And what might it be, laddie?"

The mighty dwarf entered the kitchen and went to a door at its back.

"The way to the cellars! Good wine improves with time, let us see what more than a century has done to what is there."

Fili emptied his mug and stood up.

"I will surrender Kili in the watch, he must be hungry."

"He is always hungry." Someone said. Then Ellen thought about the other hunger she had, and Kili's hungry eyes at her, even more now that they knew each others' taste. Then she offered.

"I will go with you, to make you company on your way there."

"Oh, yes? And then?"

"Then I'll come back, to make Kili company on his way here!"

"No way!" Intervened Dwalin. "It is not proper for a lady to walk around alone with a man at this hour of the night."

"But brother, I'm grown up already, don't you think so?"

The elf thought this was ridiculous. The tattoed dwarf just looked at her darkly and shook his head.

"Oh, come on, dear, we are almost betrothed!"

"One more reason for you to stay at home!"

She shook her head, laughingly. It was quite absurd, but to some degree it was funny and heartwarming to have someone who cared that much about her. She missed her brother Wolfram dearly, but with Dwalin and Balin she felt as part of a special family.

Iris and Lily laughed at her.

"Now, Aunty, do you understand how we feel when you overprotect us?"


	4. Chapter 31 - Compromise

Now that they were home and dragon-less it was time to work. Roäc and his ravens kept them informed of what was happening in the vicinity, and for the moment all seemed to be calm. Thorin took his time to search for the Arkenstone, the hearth of the mountain of old, the heirloom of his family. Óin warned him that a dragon-lain hoard could be dangerous, but the king didn't care, he waited for too many years to get there and would not listen to any advice.

In the meanwhile, the Company managed to cleanse the whole house and the main paths, so that their trampling would not carry dust back home. It was strange to call a place home after so many months of wandering, after so many years of exile.

Fili and Kili did themselves the cleaning of their uncle's chambers, and greeted him when he came back from the hoard with the smile of ones who accomplished a big mischief. They didn't even say anything and he already guessed there was something coming up.

"Now, what are these sheepish smiles meant to?"

With a flourish of their hands, the boys produced a golden harp, complete and tuned, Thorin's personal knot engraved at its shoulder. His eyes got moist, but he held the knot in his throat not to show.

"My father gave me this harp when I was a lad. My mother made me learn to play it. Now they are gone to the Halls of Waiting, and this harp has waited for me to sing again."

He sat and touched the strings lightly, bringing them to life once again. Lily went to him with a mug of warm tea, which he drank some sips to break to chill of the late winter afternoon, then he fingered the harp with more assurance, and begun to sing in his rich baritone voice, soon to be followed by the humming dwarves. It was the same melody Bilbo heard him sing first time they met, ages ago at Bag End, but some verses were different.

Far over the Misty Mountains Cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

To seek our pale enchanted gold

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In places deep, where dark things sleep

In hollow halls beneath the fells

Goblets they carved there for themselves  
And harps of gold; where no man delves  
There lay they long, and many a song  
Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The bells were ringing in the dale  
And men looked up with faces pale;  
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire  
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

Far over the misty mountains grim  
To dungeons deep and caverns dim  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To win our harps and gold from him!

With this Thorin's spirit uplifted and they sang until late, making Erebor's halls pulse with their renewed joy in life.

Next day news were not so good. Roäc came informing of a troop of elves coming from Mirkwood down to Lake-Town, and he heard that they sought for revenge for their escape. Thranduil's twisted words had been able to poison Men's ears and make them believe the dragon had been sent upon them on purpose, so the dwarves would not have to pay for the supplies and necessities they took. Bard and a few others, including the horseleech healer, were still uncorrupted, but unable to change the tide, as the Master of the Town himself made more and more gossip to make his people greedy for the dwarven gold. Thranduil bought even more twisting in the matter offering help as if the Men were completely forsaken instead of well prepared thanks to the dwarves' frankness and donation of gold. Then someone had the stupid idea that the dwarves could be dead, and it was only a matter of getting to Erebor and take what they wanted.

Thorin was mad at the news. All their planning and fighting and negotiating with Bard had come to nothing because of the bloody elven-king's lies. There would be war, and they were only seventeen.

"Roäc, wisest of birds, I ask you please to send word of these happenings to my cousin Dáin Ironfoot in the Iron Hills to the east. If they come not in time to help us, they at least will taste revenge."

Then, oddly enough, he held close council with Óin.

It was a little past midday and Ellen took a bowl of stew to Kili, who was at watch in the balcony. As it was plain day, her brothers allowed her to get close to him unwatched.

Ellen's head was in conflict, and she wanted someone to talk about it, and it had to be him.

"This is wrong. The Lake-men have no guilt for Thranduil's faults."

"Thorin is angry because the Elvenking granted to Lake-Town people the help he begrudged to our own, when Smaug came."

"But there are children, women, old people..."

"As there were amongst our people, too."

The elf lowered her eyes, thinking. She remembered Dwalin's pain for his losses, one of them the loss of his sister to a fever. If they were not wandering in the wild, would she have died? And Thorin's pain, too. Kili's mother was a child when Smaug came, she was one of the children to whom Thranduil begrudged compassion. And now Lake-Town men were at the Elven-king side, ready to war against them seventeen, and yes, there was little or no chance at all that they would ever think about paying to Durin's folk elsewhere their inheritance if the Company were found dead. She made up her mind.

"I will not raise my hand against any person of the free peoples of Middle-Earth, but I will defend my king and my kin to death if it is needed."

Kili lifted his eyes from the bowl.

"This is what I expect from one compromised to me."

"What a pity we could not yet have that compromise announcement like you wanted back at Lake-Town. With war at hand, we don't even know if there will ever be a chance."

Ellen was getting depressed; she knew war could mean death to any of them, or for both. The dwarf put the bowl on the floor and took her hands in his.

"But we will. Thorin told me. He doesn't want to go to war uncompromised either." Ellen looked at him wide eyed, surprised. "If you have a beautiful dress in your packs, put it on this evening; if you don't, I'll be proud to compromise to a full armored fancy elf warrior."

Óin was the oldest member of the Company that was not directly involved in the Compromising that evening, and so, responsible for calling the Compromise Speech. They knew they all could be dead anytime, because the ravens brought them more news about the elves and men moves, and that meant war was at hand. But, to the dwarven beliefs, a compromise made in life meant they would have their souls intertwined and would find each other in Halls of Waiting; they believed also that a dwarf soul would come back in his own lineage if what he was meant to fulfill in this life was not completed, or if he got in debt to his own folk. That was why Durin himself came back some times already, and still would come, in due time, for his love and compromise to his people was forever.

Balin was thinking about all this and lost the beginning of what Óin said, but he had heard it many times already and only got startled when he heard Thorin's nephew being called. He was glad to be alive to see that young footloose boy take so a serious step.

"Kili, son of Dís, daughter of Thrain, of the line of Durin, what have you to offer to grant the future of your home and your family?"

The youngling was obviously nervous, but swallowed hard and spoke with no trembling in his voice.

"I bring the skills of warfare, blacksmithing, and stone carving." This nor Ellen knew about, and eyed him smilingly. "I bring also what share in the treasure of Erebor will be found due, according to my contribution to its reconquest; and I bring the name of the line of Durin."

Having finished his speech, he smiled at her, unable to hide his happiness.

"Who speaks in the name of Ellen, daughter of Nyda?"

The patriarchal dwarven culture required a man to speak in name of the fiancée, which was quite a help for regular dwarven girls who really were shy; to Ellen and her nieces, it was just funny.

"I, Balin, son of Fundin, speak for her."

"And what has she to bring to her future home and family?"

"She brings the skills of warfare, housekeeping, embroidering and gardening." It was imperative for a woman to have the skill of housekeeping mentioned, as oddly as it sounded to the three of them there present. Then the white haired dwarf took out a small piece of paper to read so he would not say wrong the strange predicates he was not quite used to. "She brings fire brigade knowledge, a business administration bachelor grade, and a mastering degree in strategic planning." He put the paper back into his pocket along with his glasses and completed, to the surprise of many, giving the elf his and Dwalin's betrothal gift. "Also, she brings the name of the family of Fundin, _by adoption_."

That was unexpected. They all knew she was Little Sister to Balin and Dwalin, but that was usually an informal agreement among the involved ones only; having mentioned her as being adopted to the family of Fundin at a formal announcement made her a rightful heiress to any inheritance her brothers had right to. As they had no direct descendants, it made her potentially astoundingly wealthy.

After the Speech, they exchanged silver beads that they would entwine in their braids as a sign of compromise. In ancient days, the braiding would have been done right then and there, but nobody had the patience to wait for a rightful braiding of hairs since Óin son of Glóin took two hours to have his hair braided for his compromise bead, back in 2.450 Third Age.

Óin called for the next couple, not leaving time for the Company to chat about the adoption, as that could come later.

"Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, of the line of Durin, what have you to offer to grant the future of your home and your family?"

There seemed to be no nervousness in the proud dwarf when he spoke, most words the same as his nephew's.

"I bring the skills of warfare, blacksmithing, and kingship. I bring also my own share of the treasure of Erebor, and a seat beside me at the high throne of our Fathers of old; I bring the name of the line of Durin."

Everybody nodded and smiled to his speech, mostly because until some months ago none of them thought that this would ever happen.

"Who speaks in the name of Lily, daughter of Wolfram?"

It was not usual that a woman spoke for another, but being the only adult relative the dwarf-lass had there, it had to be Ellen to speak for her, according to what was agreed beforehand.

"I, Ellen, daughter of Fundin, speak for her." Said the elf, using her dwarf family name for the very first time.

"And what has she to bring to her future home and family?"

"She brings the skills of fighting, housekeeping and hairdressing." It was not just braiding, she could really cut and hairstyle the way she wanted, and it was well accounted amongst the dwarfs. "She brings knowledge of herb lore, basic healing, indoors design and basic architecture." It was not a problem to mention some knowledge as "basic" because she was so young it only showed that she was someone eager to learn. "She brings the name of the family of Wolfram, son of Nyda, from out of the circles of Arda."

That last part would be close to the regular speech for her own family name, hadn't Balin mentioned her as adopted to the line of Fundin. Thorin and Lily exchanged silver beads to entwine into their braids later and Óin took the word again.

"Be aware that from now on, until the day of your wedding, Mahal will be watching you to find if you are worthy one of the other; the skills and knowledge you swore to bring to your future home and family are to be proven to be true, if they haven't so already."

Ellen elbowed Kili's side and whispered.

"What does it mean? Nobody told me anything about proving skills!"

"Be at ease, in our case it means only that I have to make a carving for you and that you have to embroider me something and grow a garden before our wedding."

"And when will that be?"

"If we are still alive, in a year and a day, at least". He fingered the back of her dark green dress. "Is it time enough for what you have to do?"

"I think so. It is not because I lived in an apartment that I don't know how to grow some flowers."

"What is an _apartment_?"

"Hmm, a kind of house inside a tower."

"Like the _office tower_ you mentioned?"

"Yes, like this."

"Hmm, it sounds like a particular dungeon, doesn't it?"

Ellen laughed.

"Yes, kind of!"


	5. Chapter 32 - The Tomb Stone

A/N: I thank all you wonderful readers for your kind reviews, follows and favorites. You make my day!

Remeber that things that seems boring and/or out of place will have it's explanation/use in the future, even things that have happened long ago (this means, don't skip chapters!).

Namarië!

* * *

It would be some days before any army could reach Erebor, and so they prepared themselves for the storm that was to come. All kind of weapon and armor to be found was made ready to use, albeit the most probably was that they would be in siege, and then food would be the main problem. Balin and Dwalin were the ones to take charge on the preparations for whatever would come to happen, as Thorin went into the hoard and wouldn't leave until he found the Arkenstone.

Bombur reminded them that Erebor had its own source of food, even if it could get boring if they had to live a long time on it, but was worth a try to see if it still was there. There was also Mirror Lake, where it could be possible to find fish. He gathered some volunteers and they went through mighty tunnels to an area closer to the east side of the Mountain.

They followed Bombur down in what seemed to Bofur, Nori, Ori, Iris and Lily endless stairs. Lily marveled in every new style of wrought stone pillar or banister she saw, thinking her architecture classes would never show her such works of art and skilled craft. The oldest dwarf amongst them rejoiced in showing them the halls closest to the staircase set that led to Mirror Lake.

"I know well these paths, for they lead also to the mushroom growths. Mushrooms grow in the darkness and can sprout again after many years dormant." Bombur was proud of showing them what he knew of their retaken realm, and about food. "But Mirror Lake is one of the most amazing things you will see in your whole life, I bet my beard. Its surface is really a mirror, no water is like its water, you can see not an inch bellow its surface; and if you are _under_ its surface, you cannot see what is above. But if you take a handful of water in your hands, it is just plain water. You can drink it, you can swim in it, but you cannot see through it, when it is in the Lake."

"Really weird!" Stated Iris, to what Ori agreed.

"It must help the lighting system of Erebor, I'm sure." Lily thought in an urbanist way. "Every light that hits the lake will reflect and go back to the halls."

Bofur gave his contribution, although he was really young when Smaug came and took his home and his father from him.

"Mother said it was used to bring the children to bathe in the Mirror Lake waters so that they would grow up smarter."

"And you see it really makes a difference, ladies!" Nori elbowed his younger brother, born in Ered Luin.

"And _our_ Mother says it is a pity that it was only a legend!" Ori supplement, much to everyone's laughter.

The reached the lake level and headed for it. Probably for the light reflected by it and the moisture it kept, there was the first place they found anything growing inside the Mountain besides the piles of dust. A very light colored moss covered the corners of the path stones, here and there climbing no more than inches on the walls. It felt fresh and alive like an old forest at night.

"If we round the lake by the north side, we will reach the mushroom growth faster, and you can take a good look at the Mirror Lake Tomb Stone, too." Bombur informed. The girls got curious and a little alarmed.

"Tomb Stone? Are the graveyards here close by, where mothers bathed their children?"

"No, not really! There is only one Tomb Stone adjacent to Mirror Lake, and legends tell it is not even of a dwarf. It is there for so a long time already that none knows exactly who is buried there and why it was allowed that a non-dwarf would have this honor granted."

"Then how are you sure it is a tomb stone?"

"It has strange writings on it, like only a tomb stone could have, and is shaped like a tomb stone. Why would anyone shape a stone like a tomb stone if it weren't a tomb stone at all?"

"It makes some sense."

Like everything in Erebor, Mirror Lake was mighty, impressive. Its diameter could not be much more than half a mile, but being at such a low level in the whole mountain and having light funnels cut through the stone to bring the sun on it made it shine like if it was quite wider that it actually was, and gave back its light to everything around. The water source was not to be seen, probably coming from underground; the south path was somewhat smoother, having real beaches of fine grained bluish sands, but north path was a little higher from the water level, which allowed them to see its full extension and glory. It was a breathtaking unstirred water mirror.

"Bombur, it is heart shaking!" Iris was utterly impressed by the whole scenery. "If it were back at my old world, people would pay to see this marvel!"

The red bearded fat dwarf chuckled in delight.

"I told you!"

Ori was breathless. His artist soul felt the innumerable possibilities that place held for his pencils, almost panicky if his life would be enough to draw all there was to be drawn on the shores of that lake, and to catch all the light that spread from it. Lily had a slight epiphany feeling when she said.

"Now I understand why mothers believe their children will get smarter from bathing here."

"You do?"

"I do." She went on, quietly. "It is so much stimulus, you have more light than in most of the halls, and coming from more directions than, and in various intensities; each kind of stone shines in several different ways, and if you are telling me is true, which I don't doubt, when you duck into the water you become like blind, completely in the darkness and in search for light; and then you come out of this darkness to this wondrous halls..." She was at a loss of words.

"I never understood..." Bofur eyed the dome above them with a renewed sight. He bowed his head to the waters, as if ashamed of having not comprehended what all that meant, and a stranger to his birth halls grasped it at the same moment she saw it. "I was just a child then..."

Bombur patted his big chubby hand on his brother's shoulder, trying to make him feel better.

"And now, brother, you are only a man." (1) Bofur turned to him, his always smirking eyes wet from feeling he was at his own home for the very first time in life. "Be glad. Some people take more than a life to understand what they have to."

They were reaching a higher ground, amidst two portentous natural stone pillars, where a somewhat different boulder outstood. Its color was obviously wrong. The Lonely Mountain was, essentially, of different kinds of stone that bore gold naturally, along with other minerals. As a matter of fact, the profusion of gems in Erebor's mines along with gold and silver could only be due to Aulë's own decision, as no geologist could ever make out why it was the way it was. Of course, if ever a geologist should come close to Erebor. But that boulder had shades from caramel to cream, and was sedimentary, unlike the whole of the Mountain. They came closer to see the strange markings Bombur mentioned, the girls and Ori very curious, as they had never seen it before; as soon as she got her eyes on it, Lily gave a cry.

"Iris! It is Latin alphabet, these are letters from our world!"

Lily looked up at the writings, open mouthed, in shock. Iris was silent, and a moment of silence coming from Iris was something to pay attention to. Then she read the first line aloud, almost stumbling on the words.

"_Longa kaj prospera vivo_."

"You can really read this? What does it mean?"

The dwarves were astonished with the discovery. The girls turned back to them.

"We don't know. It is not in our own language!"

They went to the mushroom growth and found it was perfectly full of mushrooms after all that time. Moisture from Mirror Lake and the right temperature kept it sustainably equilibrated along the years, and they collected an assortment of different types of mushrooms enough to make any hobbit smile from ear to ear. Then Lily hurried back to get Ellen to see the Tomb Stone and find out if she could make some sense of what was written there. Unfortunately, she could not do much more than her nieces.

"This first line looks like Esperanto; it is an invented language, made to be easy to any other language speaker to learn it easily."

"And what does it mean?" Lily asked, tense.

"If my memory works at least a little bit, it should be something like '_Long and prosperous life'_. Weird. It was used as a greeting by a certain people in a movie series in my world." Ellen stated this so Kili could follow what they were seeing and thinking. "What is this possibly doing here?"

"And the rest of the writings? Can you make something out of it? What is a _movie series_?"

Kili would not let her be alone close to anything that could possibly drag her back to her former world.

"No, the words are too rough, they don't look like any language I know of."

Ellen studied the writings from top to bottom, trying to find any sound that had any meaning for her. Suddenly she started to laugh.

"It is obvious!"

"I don't see anything obvious here." Stated Lily.

"I can make only one single word out of this mess, but it is enough to know at least which language it is. It is Klingon! Thankfully, it was not written in the Klingon alphabet too."

Kili was curious, which means, he was being Kili.

"What is _Klingon_?"

"It is the language of another people in that same movie series. A lot of people loves this series enough to learn this language."

Lily was excited.

"Yes, like Father!"

"And have you learned it too?"

"No." Ellen shook her head. "I think I was not nerd enough to give me the trouble."

"What is _nerd_?"

"Kili, please just stop asking things, I trying to think!"

"I just want to understand your weird talk, elf! I must know if not being nerd enough is meant as insult or praise."

"Ouch, all right, sorry, my kiwi, I'm just distressed."

"What is _kiwi_?"

She chuckled.

"A thing that is hairy in the outside and sweet in the inside!"

He blushed and Lily laughed; Kili resumed his questioning, changing the subject.

"What is a _nerd_?"

"Someone who loves to learn and uses to learn a lot about some issue, usually. Mostly linked to technology, culture, any specific subject. It is hard to explain."

"Then a nerd is a wise person?"

"Well, it is a person who knows a lot about something; it doesn't always make a person wise."

"And your brother is a _nerd_ that speaks _Klingon_?"

"I know he studied it for some time, he is a nerd that likes to learn languages, amongst other stuff. If he were here maybe he could read it." She shook her head. "But there it is no helping at all. The only one I know who could read this is exactly in the place we must read this to be able to go to. We're stuck."

"I don't like to see you so interested in finding the Passage Gate back to your world, mostly right after we Compromised."

The dwarf was clearly annoyed.

"Kili, we have had this argument before. Please. My brother has the right to know what happened to us, and to have his daughters to report him what they are up to, at least. All I want is a way to communicate with him, to send him a message. And, in my opinion, to send him Iris, too."

"Why do you insist in sending my Little Sister away? I never had a sister before!" Kili complained and Ellen sighed.

"Why didn't Glóin bring his son Gimli to this quest?"

"Because he is too young, sometimes he doesn't reason at all and gets into trouble for him and for us."

"Did he like to be left behind?"

"Of course not!"

"Do you think he should have come?"

"Of course not, again!"

"Then you have your answer."

"But if it weren't for her, we would not have made the exploding kegs! She was crucial for our victory over Smaug!"

"I don't deny it. But think about what would be it like with her around in times of peace with this kind of prank attitude all time long. You don't know what my brother has gone through when she exploded her school toilet."

Kili's eyes got wide and Ellen finished to copy the Klingon writings on a paper sheet Ori gave her.

"I don't know if I will be able to make any word out of it, but if it is somehow related to the languages of my old world that I know, I may fish something."

"Does your old world have many languages?"

"Hundreds." Lily answered for he aunt. "Ellen speaks well at least two of them, and understands a bit of some more."

"In my work area there was no other way, dear."

"And your father, Aunty?"

"Aunty is your braid!" They chuckled. "He is a languages nerd. Last time I counted, he was able to communicate in fourteen languages."

They took the way back to the headquarters.

"And, Kili, please don't tell my sister about what we deem better for her. It will be less hurtful if she finds out herself that maturity is something that is needed to make some decisions."

(1 – "I was just a child then, now I'm only a man" refers to a Pink Floyd's song "Possible Pasts")


	6. Chapter 33 - Gold Sickness (M)

A/N: I thank once more ye wonderful readers for all the kind reviews, follows and favorites, you make my day!

For anyone who started to read this fork from chapter 28 of the adventure on, I strongly recommend reading the story from the beggining, T rated, it can be found s/9253058/1/Loyalty-Honor-and-a-Willing-Heart

* * *

They kept the next days preparing for a possible war and an almost sure siege. Thorin spend his days in the hoard looking for the Arkenstone, and Bilbo was becoming a very quiet hobbit, not excited at all about warfare. At the end of the sixth day after Smaug's demise they had news that the elven and human army was at the borders of the Desolation area, and next day morning a couple of scouts came to Erebor's Front Gate; when they saw dwarves on watch in the balcony, they retreated without a word.

"The Ostrich King has come!" Fili went in a hurry to warn Thorin. "They sent some scouts to see if we are alive, Uncle. Better prepare for a parley."

"Let us see what they have to say."

Answered a bad tempered Thorin. Anything that made him get away from the hoard was not welcomed. He had already hurried away with most of the Company members who tried to make him get away from the hoard for any reason.

There was no need to wait for a small embassy to reach the Front Gate. Soon Thorin and his Company saw them coming, Bard from the Lake-Men and Legolas from Thranduil's folk, plus two or three from each race. The presence of elves bore no good at all.

"Hail, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór!"

"Hail, Bard of Lake-Town." Thorin was in no good mood but tried to keep civilized. "What brings you to our doors?"

"I've been sent to claim reward for the death of the dragon which haunted your realm. He burned down our town and our people is in the wild."

"Not for lack of our warning or previous help."

"No warning we had that we would have to deal with a drunken dragon."

"Drunken or not, it was an injured dragon you had to deal with, impaired and half blind."

"This we do not deny."

"So...?"

"I've been sent to claim compensation for the death of the dragon which burned down our town."

"Discounted our previous help, it might be thought of, in due time, but not to ones who come to us armed as if to war. And what does the brood of Mirkwood at our doors?"

Bard shuffled his feet, uncomfortable, and Legolas took the word.

"Thranduil King claims a share of the treasure for having helped Lake-Town men."

"_What_?"

Legolas looked at the other members of the embassy, evaluating them, and then back at Thorin.

"To make it short, he is a greedy fellow and is trying to get some wealth out of this mess. I don't agree with him but if I don't play my part he will disinherit me, and I'm not quite at ease with this idea." The others looked wide eyed at him, amazed. "What's the matter? I might be stupid, but I'm sincere!"

"Get your sincerity out of my sight before I stuck an arrow in the middle of it! No word will I have with Mirkwood scum and no compensation will be accounted for ones who come at my door in arms!"

And with this the embassy was dismissed, and an angry Thorin went back to his dragon-enchanted hoard

"No good, no good, this will be no good!" Balin paced the living room to and fro.

"How will we get rid of the elves? They have nothing to claim from us!" Fili was indignant.

"Worse still, _they_ should pay us a compensation for having jailed us undeservedly!" Kili supported his brother.

"That's true, that's true, but how will we deal with this siege?"

"As long as there are mushrooms, there is hope!" This was Bilbo's contribution to the argument.

"Dáin will be here in days. If Lake-Town people don't reason and Thranduil's elves don't retreat, we will have war."

"That's it, the army Thranduil begrudged Thrór to defeat Smaug he unleashes against one of the free peoples of Middle-Earth. What a shame to my blood!" Ellen was distressed. "No wonder Thorin got so long to trust me, if I had a former experience with that guy I would not trust any elf either!"

"If the compensation was given to the Lake-Town men, would it be the end of the siege?" Bilbo asked, curious.

"Thranduil is greedy, you heard his own son say so. Bard didn't mention reward for the elves, you all saw it."

"But he didn't deny Legolas' speech."

"He was only a speaker, not the one who decides things. I'm sure we would negotiate fairly with him, but there's no way to fix things with the elves there."

"There is too much evil wandering free in Middle-Earth for us to agree with war amongst the free Peoples."

"But we are not seeking for war, war came at our doors!"

And so the talk went on, as there was no way to conciliate dwarven and elven interests; albeit their experience in the wild along the last few months, nor the women nor Bilbo were at ease with the idea of war against elves and men, after all, three of them had been human not long ago, and one of them was currently an elf. The hobbit was the one who felt worse about it, and he got quieter and quieter as the night approached.

Next day found the embassy at the Front Gate again. Thorin was called from the hoard, where he slept that night (or didn't sleep at all, as his eyes suggested) against all efforts of his Company to get him back to his chambers.

"What are you doing here? I told you I would not parley with armed people, and there will be no parley with Mirkwood scum at all!"

Bard took the word.

"Thorin Oakenshield, is there nothing you would have rather than a bit of gold that will do no difference in your hoard but that will make all difference for the Lake-Town people?"

"I told you already compensation will come in due time, but I accept no pressure from armed people befriended to elven scum!"

There was no way to explain that all Bard wanted was to finish business and grant Lake-Town people means to survive the winter that was at hand. The elven-king had too much influence in Lake-Town economics to be dismissed.

"I offer what is in this shrine in exchange of its value in gold."

Bard said and an old man opened a small wooden box; to the dwarves' dismay, it was the Arkenstone that shone inside of it.

"How have you come to put your filthy hands on my heirloom? Why do you think that I will pay for what is righteously mine?" Thorin was seething.

"If this is the means to make you reason, that is how it will be."

"Thieves! You stole the heirloom of my family! This grants war upon you and your people for as long as what was stolen is not returned! Who put this stone in your filthy hands?"

A disturbed Bilbo spoke quietly at his side.

"Actually, it was me."

"What?" Thorin gazed daggers into the Hobbit. "What did you do, descendant of rats?"

"I gave them the Arkenstone." Bilbo stammered. "I thought I could buy peace with this exchange."

The Company was at loss; Iris shook her head, wide eyed, almost to cry.

"And how did you come to the idea that it was yours to give?" Thorin shouted now.

"Well, you said I could choose my due one fourteenth of the treasure, so I..."

"You bastard!" He shook Bilbo by his collar. "I wish I had Gandalf here to say him some truths!"

The old man with the wooden box took off his hood.

"And here he is, Thorin Oakenshield!" And truly it was Gandalf who stood there. "You can tell me the truths you believe, as long as you return me my burglar, if he is no more of your service."

"Take him! And take him now, before I change my mind and throw him from these walls down!"

And with this Bilbo hurried downstairs, accompanied by Bofur and Bifur, who went to help him to open the makeshift stone door, to get him out and to close it again. Iris was with them, crying.

"How could you, Bilbo? How could you?"

He looked back at her, angry.

"How could I? How could I handle this war-headed Thorin all these months long? How could I deal with orcs and goblins and spiders and wargs? _You_ may be inclined to warfare, Iris, but I for one am not! I want peace, I want my warm hole in the Shire and to have nothing more to do with all this stuff!"

Bofur stretched him his hand.

"Please find a place in your heart to forgive Thorn. Óin is sure he has the gold sickness, he is not in his normal."

"I will find, my friend, but at a safe distance from his wrath."

"_I wish you luck_." Bifur signaled in Iglishmêk, and Bofur translated it for Bilbo.

"I know." They all embraced warmly. "I wish you luck too, for as long as Thorin has this sickness, you all will be in need of it!" He turned to Iris. "And you, will you forgive me?"

She punched him lightly in the chest.

"How could I not?"

Bilbo held her tight to himself, kissing her red curls with a sigh.

"It is not that I am proficient for war that I don't prefer peace."

"I must go now."

After dismissing Bilbo, Thorin rushed back to the hoard with not a wink to the rest of the Company and stayed there for the night. Bombur went to him with a plate of food in the evening and left it there, with no answer to his calling. Next morning Balin went and tried to talk to him, but came back with a grief stricken look in his eyes. Right after midday Lily heaved a sigh, exchanged some words with Ellen and left the headquarters, not looking back. She found her way to the hoard and stood at the entrance.

"Thorin, you must rest!" Lily pleaded. "The hoard will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and all other days for the rest of you life! Please, leave it and come home!

"I _am_ home, woman!" He answered, an angry tone in his voice. "Every bit of Erebor is my home, from every pebble to every diamond dust I fought to retake, this is _all_ home to me!"

Lily lowered her head, a tear glistening at the corner of her eye.

"We _all_ fought to retake it."

"And all will have their share of the gold." He retorted dryly.

She narrowed her eyes, uplifting her face to look directly at his eyes, a knot in her throat.

"I didn't fight for gold; I fought for a home, Thorin, a _home_ we would share, do you remember?"

Thorin opened his arms and weaved his hands to all the treasure around them.

"And are we not sharing this home, Lily? This is the dream of every dwarf from Cuiviénen to Ered Luin, from Helcaraxë to Far Harad! I promised you a home that would be deserver of you, your beauty, your kindness, your youthful joy, and look, Lily, look around you! All this is ours, Lily! This is our home!"

Thorin was so absorbed in his gold-gazing that he never knew what hit him. Later he would be notified that it was a gold candle-holder adorned with red gems, that Lily deftly threw at his head while he was looking at the piles of gold.

"My home can even be in the wild, dear Midas, as long as you are the man I knew; but this greedy selfish gold-lover is not the one I knew, the one I learned to respect and to love."

He rubbed his head at the spot where the candle-holder hit him, looking confused. She continued.

"_My_ home is where the ones I love dwell; where are the ones you love? Where are your nephews, Thorin, your kin?"

The dwarf looked around, perplexed. He realized it was the first time in years that Fili and Kili were not orbiting him. Lily had not finished yet.

"Your best friends, where are they? Balin, Dwalin? Can you remember last time you drank an ale mug with Glóin and Óin? A wine goblet with Dori?"

Thorin shook his head. Something was not making sense. Something was missing.

"You used to be proud for your attention to the Company members, when was it the last time you asked about any of them? Did you know Ori had his last molar tooth erupted three days ago and was not even able to munch a bread slice? That Bombur goes down to the mushroom growth everyday just because _you_ prefer the salmon color mushrooms and they can be used only the day they are collected?"

"Lily, I..."

"I am not finished yet!" She cried. Weirdly enough, he didn't react. "When they have spare time, you may see that Bofur and Nori are trying to mend some small things they are finding at your grandfather's _home_; Nori is not very good at it, but he says he is still young enough to learn if Bofur is willing enough to teach; whenever you find your way _home_, Thorin, you may be able to know what I am talking about."

Now he was really disturbed; it was not only the throbbing of the bruise in his head, what she said was making sense, he didn't quite understand what was happening to him. Still, gold lust was strong in him, as a dragon had made _his_ _home_ on that gold for too much time, and the longer he stood amongst that enchanted hoard the stronger the dragon sickness took hold on him. Smaug's spirit tried to take hold once more, and Thorin replied harsh and biter.

"What are you talking about? What are you doing here, at all? You are not even dwarven-born, and you are niece to an _elf_!"

He paced angrily on the gold piles, trying to reason what was unreasonable, disqualifying Lily instead of disputing her arguments. Gold sickness overtook him.

"You are trying to take me away from here to steal my treasure, my heirloom!"

"I am no thief, not me nor anyone in the Company!" Lilt shouted.

"You lie! We have a _burglar_ in the Company, _against_ my wish!"

Lily sat on a gold pile, tired, and put her hands on her own head.

"No, we have not. If you don't remember, you almost threw him from the balcony yesterday. Then you sent him away to Lake-Town people."

Thorin didn't remember, and had a confused look in his eyes, thought he would never concede. His memory was failing, all he could remember and think about was the hoard beneath his feet.

"Why are you trying to take me away from what is rightfully mine?"

Lily took a deep breath in, hoping she would manage to deal with him.

"You are _king_. Your people _needs_ you. _I_ need you! Out there, where people are, not here, where cold gold lies."

"Why don't they come here where I am instead of wanting me to go to them?"

His tone was confused, he sounded almost like a child.

"Thorin, take a look at yourself! You have dark circles around your eyes, your food stays untouched, you withdraw yourself from everyone and everything but these piles of metal and stone, for Durin's sake, this is no life!"

He was not moved. That much reasoning made him resentful to her, as the dragon sickness messed with his psyche, and he got into an anger outbreak again.

"What do you know about life? You are a child, you have seen nothing in your life, nothing! You don't know the blood smell of a battlefield, you don't know what it is to cremate your brother, to se your grandfather beheaded, to..." His voice faltered. "Why are you trying to take me away from what is rightfully mine? This is _my_ inheritance, _my_ treasure, _my_ hoard!" Thorin shouted at her. "_What are you doing here_?"

She stood up, a cold anger piercing through her deep sea blue eyes.

"I was looking for the one I love, for the one that said he loved me too. But he is nowhere to be found, so I'm leaving."

Lily turned to the wide door and started to walk away.

"You can leave and come as you wish, you are a free citizen of Erebor."

"You don't understand." She looked back at him over her shoulder. "I am not just leaving this dragon cursed place, I am leaving _you_."

Thorin heard her, unwilling to believe. It could not be! She could not forsake him, he could not lose her!

"No! You cannot! Lily! Don't leave me! Lily, you will break my heart!"

He ran to her, stumbling in the slippery gold, falling down once, retaking his footing and struggling on. He was far into the treasure room and she was close to the door while they argued, and now she was already gone. Her last words echoed in his head, hurting, cutting all other thoughts out of him, and then he heard her answer his latest complaint and her now running feet taking her away from him.

"You already broke _mine_, Thorin Oakenshield!"

He stopped at the end of the corridor, trying to guess where to she would have gone. There was the sound of a muffled cry at his right, and he went after it. That passageway would lead to the Mahal temple, and they didn't explore that area yet, she didn't know where she was going to, she was just running away from him. His Lily flower was fleeing from him! What had he done? The pain in his head was spreading like a dense wave of a biter honey, blurring everything but his search for Lily. He shouted her name, and his own voice echoed back. He was at the temple, at last, but she was nowhere to be seen. The light of late afternoon filtered through the high dome windows, reflecting on the dusty mirrors and spreading some light around, light enough for his dwarven eyes to search for her, but there was not a clue of where she could be.

"Lily!"

Thorin walked carefully around the place, searching every corner, every shrine, to no avail. He couldn't see her, but he was sure she was there, he could almost feel her warmth, and called her name once in while, feeling miserable and lost; then he looked up at the huge Mahal carving, a hammer in his hand raised as if to strike. The pain he felt flowed from his head to his neck and shoulders too, it was getting hard to bear; having Mahal's hammer to fall on his chest would be a mercy. Mercy!

"Mahal! Mercy! Bring Lily back! Don't let her break my heart!"

His voice was crackled with pain when the once proud king knelt before the carving of his Maker and rested his forehead and hands on the stone floor.

"Mercy! I give up everything that took Lily away from me, that took my kin and my friends away; I was wrong, I was wronged by that accursed dragon gold! I give up every single coin that tempted me, if only I can have Lily by me! Mercy!"

Thorin's rambunctious sobs echoed in the wide temple; he had broken the heart of his Jewel, and its shards had pierced his own. The pain of losing the one to which his soul was intertwined was overwhelming, like if a physical part of himself had been cut away but death didn't take him to release him from his suffering.

A light touch on the back of his outstretched hand startled him and he quickly uplifted his head, to find Lily's pain struck eyes locked with his; her face was wet and dirty, like his own must be too, having sobbed on the dusty floor. He reached a tentative hand to her face, and his trembling fingers touched her cheekbone and the delicate braid of her beard. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Are you back?"

"Are you?" Thorin's voice trembled; Lily nodded slightly and reached for his hair, his beard, blinking the wetness of her eyes away. "Are you able to forgive me?"

"You were sick. It was not you."

"I... I broke your heart; how can I mend it?"

His eyes held a rueful look, too afraid to hope; she reached for his hand and brought it to her waist, getting closer to him, her eyes pleading.

"Make me whole! Make me yours!"

He looked at her glittering eyes and knew she meant it; his sense of honor still tried to protest, on her behalf.

"We shouldn't..."

"Thorin... war is at hand... we can be dead tomorrow... forget customs and traditions, we have Mahal to bless us, and that is enough."

Thorin kissed her fiercely, embracing her with all his might, and she kissed him back hungrily, caressing his back and rejoycing in the warmth of his mouth. She didn't protest when his trembling hand reached under her chemise, nor did he when she untied the neckpiece of his warm mantle; actually, he took it and spread it on a patch of the floor where there seemed to be less dust and sat her there. He shook his head, apologizing.

"And I promised you linen sheets..."

"And I said that as long as you were who you were, nothing else mattered." He untied her boots and put them along with his. "Now you are yourself again, and nothing else matters."

The secluded temple had no air drifts, but winter was there outside, and they took Lily's mantle over them to keep their warmth; as a matter of fact, it didn't take long for them to dismiss it as completely unnecessary. They had hungered for each other for months already, and now they quenched their thirst in each others sweat, intermingled their scents, and spent themselves one in behalf of the other, crying together their long restrained desire.

The light was fading when they finally took a rest, panting hard, her hand playing with the curly hair on his chest, where ages before she tended the warg bite; he caressed her shoulders, breathing in the scent of her hair, and sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the Vala who created his people. His pain was gone, his mind was clear, his heart was resolute, but his conscience told him he had done much wrong while struggling with the gold sickness; actually, it told him that if he had struggled more he could, maybe, have won the battle between his irrational yearning for gold and his rational king mind; but, what was done, was done, for good or evil, and all he could do was to try to make amends to what was possible. He kissed Lily's forehead, as he used to before gold lust overtook him.

"How do you feel, my wild Lily flower?"

She gazed into his eyes, a new fire within.

"Whole. Unbroken. And unbreakable."


	7. Chapter 34 – Back Home

A/N: LadyMoonScar, I agree, but I'm a bit paranoyd and I'd rather have something T in the M section than to have a story deleted because of something M where there should only be T...

* * *

Thorin knew his own folk uses well enough to find a fire making kit close to a torch at the temple's entrance. He lit it and they made their way back to the main corridor that led to the treasure halls one way and to their dwellings in the opposite way. He didn't even take a look to the treasure way, holding his head upright, bold, self-possessed, hand in hand with his fiancée, who rescued him out of the darkness of dragon madness and to whom he swore never to hurt again. They headed for the Company's headquarters, as Thror's house was turned into, and he used that time to question her what he could about his clouded minded days.

"When you spoke about the Company members, I don't recall you mentioning Bifur. How is he faring?"

"Depressed. He says he came to fight, not to stay besieged, and that he would rather die in battlefield than to grow mushrooms in his ears while waiting."

He smiled, proud of her.

"You have improved your Iglishmêk, I see."

"Why do you say this?"

"You used your free hand to accompany your words while you were talking about Bifur." She smiled back. "And your family? Iris must be mad at me if I made Bilbo go away. I must mend this, the sooner the better."

"Iris is angrier at Aunt and me than at you. She cannot see her relationship with Bilbo has no bedrock, they are in love but it is more an infatuation than anything, at least it is so that me and Aunt, who know Iris since she was born, perceive it."

"And your aunt, how is she faring?"

"She is working together with her brothers and your nephews to keep the Company united and focused, albeit your sickness. I deem the Fundinul children are everything a king could want to support him, but I'm Ellen's niece, so my opinion is suspect."

They were getting close to the headquarters when he took her by surprise, pulled her to a wall and kissed her fiercely, rubbing his hands on her arms, breasts and hips, much to her delight. He took a deep breath in and spoke quietly to her.

"No one has to fancy you are less than completely honorable to be at my side; your reputation must be as untouchable as mine, if we are to be respected by my people, and I'm not speaking about the Company, but about everyone who will be coming from Ered Luin and other places."

Lily looked up at him, agreeing with a nod, and then he said something that startled her.

"I know I'm not your First, as you are not my First; but none else has to know it."

She looked at her feet, a bit ashamed, but what else could she do? They were risen worlds apart. Thorin uplifted her chin with a finger, making her look up at him.

"And I don't care if I am not your First, because I know I am your Last. Understood?"

"Yes."

Ellen was beginning to worry about Lily when the sun was about to set; she had gone to the Hoard, to try to talk some sense into Thorin's skull, hours ago, and asked for no one to go after her. She was stretching the pizza dough to show Bombur how to make it when they heard a buzz in the living room, and shouts of joy. Kili run into the kitchen to call them, panting, wide eyed.

"Uncle is back! Aunty brought him back!"

"Great Mahal and Varda be thanked!"

The elf clasped her hands, closing her eyes. As her memory changed in after the transposing of worlds, the name of Holiness that she was used to spell changed to the different faces that it assumed in that world. A smiling Kili put a hand around her waist and led her to the living room where the others were already.

"So, now we are almost all here." Thorin smiled at them, albeit his eyes were as if carved deep in his face. "Company!" A dead silence fell on the room. "No king deserves this title if he is not king on himself." Uncomfortable shuffles on the floor. They were not used to him being so self-exposing. "I have failed you. I have been weak and I have been a fool. This fault is solely mine, and I am the one who has to suffer the consequences of my own faults." More disturbed looks. "I have it deep engraved in my heart that my sickness is over, and stronger than any oath of honor and loyalty from a person to a king is the oath of honor and loyalty a king must swear to his own people. I hold none of you tied to your oaths of old, but I renew my own oath to you, and I ask for your forgiveness for my weakness. Whomever doesn't feel comfortable to follow my lead is free to go at will, and will forever be welcome back, if I deserve it."

Dwalin left the circle and faced Thorin. He was one that had gone to the hoard several times, trying to coax Thorin to get out of there, to eat, to sleep, to resume his life without the dragon cursed gold to command him, and who came back empty handed all those times. He took Thorin's neckpiece in both hands, menacingly. The tension built around them.

Then they hit foreheads like brothers.

The crew cheered up, and took it as a sign to hug and grab and tickle and poke their king, and there was joy and laughter in those halls like it hadn't been since the dragon came. Everyone had something to tell or to show him, everyone was glad to have him back.

Óin and Glóin managed to fix and better some plumbing issues and now the headquarters had hot water in the bath tubes, as long as Bombur kept the fire in the kitchen on for at least three hours; Nori and Bofur found out they thought alike in some matters and rearranged a set of mirrors originally meant for light spreading and now they could be used to communicate from the watch post in the balcony to the headquarters, and vice-versa; Bifur and Dwalin made a selection of weaponry and armor fitted for all the Company members, and Dori ordered them so they could be chosen from easily without wasting any time; Ori retraced the floorplans of the halls that had major damage, and from the balcony made some sketches from the surroundings that would be useful if they had to go to war; Fili, Kili and Iris spent their time making small gunpowder bombs that could be thrown by hand, while Balin, Lily and Ellen twisted their minds trying to find a solution to the dead-lock the upcoming war presented them.

What was to be up cheering suddenly made Thorin look troubled and to stay silent. Lily noticed it at once.

"What is wrong, my king?"

"Don't call me your king, my Lily flower; you all are so self-sufficient you don't need a king."

"It only means you are good enough a king to choose the best, and to make your subjects do what they have to do even in your absence. If this is not kingship, I don't know what it should be called."

He smiled.

"You bring out the best in me."

"And you bring out the best in everyone around you."

Bombur called everyone to taste his first pizza ever, and slices were delivered to everyone. Thorin tasted a four-cheese slice.

"I must make amends, quickly. I must call for Bilbo and Gandalf at the first sun in the morning. And Bard. And I must do it without to give notice to Thranduil."

"This might be difficult; he has a very strong influence in Lake-Town matters."

"And, by my own fault, I don't have a halfling burglar anymore to wander at will in any battleground."

"You may not have a halfling burglar, but still you have a halfling at your service. Nonetheless."

Thorin looked up startled at Iris' cold voice. He was sure she was completely distressed by his previous attitudes, and now she was there, hurt sky blue eyes, offering her services. He felt sure he didn't deserve her loyalty, but thanked Mahal for it. He stood up and bowed low in front of the hobbit-lass.

"If you find me worthy of asking for you favor, lady Iris, I'd be most honored to count on your service."

Her answer was quite simple.

"Everybody makes some mess in live, sometime. Who am I to judge you?" She stuck another pizza slice whole in her mouth and asked, mouth full. "What do you want me to tell them?"

Bofur accompanied Bombur at his daily duty of collecting mushrooms, them both happy for being sure this time Thorin would eat them. Right before sunrise was the best hour of the day to collect the mushrooms he liked best, so they bore a torch to lit their way. Bombur suppressed his shivers when passing along the Tomb Stone. When it was just the Tomb Stone of some unknown person with some strange scribblings on it, he didn't care at all; but now it was related to another perilous world, from where the "turmoil trio" had come. Could that stone be more than a Tomb Stone? Nor even Ellen managed to understand its writings beyond the first line.

They filled a basket with a collection of different mushrooms, thinking it was a shame Bilbo wasn't there anymore; Bofur wished Thorin would made amends, now that he was himself again. They could be held besieged for ages as long as there were mushrooms, and there was enough to feed a whole dwarven city. Bombur paced along the Tomb Stone again, trying to focus on the lunch menu, which was meant to be somewhat festive for their king's return, at least as much as it was possible being besieged. Maybe Thorin would negotiate peace, but, no, there was the elven-king, no way Thorin would reason about him. The red bearded dwarf was about to put the torch out when they heard a splash.

Bombur kept the torch in his hand and they looked back at Mirror Lake. Its perfectly reflexive waters wavered; there was no wind to stir its surface.

"It could have been a fish, couldn't it, brother? "

They got closer to the water. They were not members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield to be afraid of a jumping fish.

"Hmm, maybe we could fish something for dinner, it would be nice to have fresh meat."

"Why didn't you think of it sooner? It looks like a good time to search for a spot fishes gather, like amongst those rocks close to the beach."

"Of course it is impossible to see underwater, but if we manage to see where the fish jumped, we would have a place to start with."

Then it jumped out of the water, and it was no fish at all.

"Durin save me!"

Bombur cried out loud, wide-eyed. The _not-a-fish_ gasped for air, struggled to keep himself above the surface, blinked to shake the water from his eyes and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. Then he headed for the beach, and when close to the margin he took his step with the help of a staff and walked out of the water, carrying a thoroughly soaked green backpack on his shoulders; he wiped the water that still dripped from his hair and face and looked at Bombur holding the torch. Maybe not having any light with them would have been wiser, but it was too late now. The tall stranger approached the dwarves and with a deliberate and respectful gesture bowed himself low.

"I am Wolfram, son of Nyda, at your service!"

The red-bearded dwarf staggered.

"I am Bombur, and my brother here is Bofur."

"At your service and your family's!" Bofur completed. He almost couldn't believe he heard the name he heard. "And I mean it!"

The man blinked.

"Bofur? Bombur? From the Company of Thorin Oakenshield?"

"Yes, man, that is it!" Bofur was less scared than Bombur and noticed the resemblance from the man to their elf. "And you, from out of the circles of Arda, right?"

"Yes, so it seems." He wringed his clothes where he could reach them while speaking. "What year is this, in the more commonly used calendar? The one that refers to the ages..."

"2941 of the Third Age, sir. Can we help you? At least to get some dry clothes, else you catch a cold. It is winter outside."

"I thank you very much! It was summer were I came from, believe me or not."

"You can bet a tuna can we believe, mister!"

Wolfram thought it a strange thing to bet, but just shook his head.

"Can you take me to your leader?"

"Sure! Follow us, there are long stairs to climb to our headquarters."

The stranger was a bit groggy from the transition, it was obvious, and they offered to help him carry his backpack. Bombur spoke quietly to his brother in Khuzdul.

"Are you crazy? Leading this stranger to our headquarters?"

"Of course I'm not crazy, didn't you hear who he is?"

"I guess I was too scared to understand what he said, I didn't figure out who he is."

"You moron, have you not heard the girls introducing themselves times enough?"

"Of course I have, they are Lily and Iris, daughters of..." Then it hit him. "Then he is Thorin's father in law!"

Bofur chuckled.

"And Kili's brother-in-law, by the way!"

They stopped for the man to catch up with them. Albeit his long shanks, he was weary and groggy from the transition and whatever adventure he had had before getting through the Gate in the lake and was having trouble to match the steady pace of the dwarves, more used to that amount of stairs.

"Do we tell him now?"

"No, let him have the surprise!"

"I bet he will faint."

"One gold piece that he will scream!" The man came closer to them, panting. "Hey, fellow, what business brings you here to our humble halls?"

"I really don't know if I am at the right place, mister, but at least I'm at the right world. You may deem it absurd, but I'm looking for my family, I believe they got lost in Middle-Earth and the only way I knew to get in here was the Mekhem Lamâb (1)."

They eyed him with surprise.

"Hmm, versed in Khuzdul, are you?"

"Not really. Just half a dozen words. It is hard to learn your secret language when you are not a dwarf."

"And what is your family like? We have wandered from Ered Luin to here and met a lot of people, maybe we can help you." Bofur was enjoying his joke.

"They are my two daughters, the younger one is Iris Glory, a teenager brat who speaks too much and is always ready for a mischief, she is red haired, sky blue eyes, about this tall."

He showed with his hand on the middle of his chest. The dwarves smiled at the almost perfect picture of their friend, weren't it for the height.

"The oldest is Lily Grace, she has brown hair, dark blue eyes, a sweetie, good hearted but gets easily distracted, a bit taller than Iris."

Bombur chuckled thinking what Wolfram would think of the "bit" Lily was taller than Iris now, or, actually, that Iris was shorter than Lily.

"And then there is my sister, Ellen, she is tall, brown haired, gray blue eyes, stubborn, good willed, has a knack of making people do what must be done."

"And has it been long that you lost them, mister?"

"About a month ago; they went for a hike and didn't reach the camp they were going to." The dwarves thought it strange, as the women joined the Company several months ago, already. "When they didn't come back ten days later I called forest police to try to find them, and they spent more ten days to say they could not be found. At this time I was completely distressed and begun to think what could possible have happened to them, then I remembered they would use a map that was in my library, and my library has some maps that aren't quite, hmm, ordinary, then I checked out and found out they got one of these. That's how I found out that they should be in Middle-Earth, but then I had to find a way to get here myself to rescue them, and it took me some more days. The problem now is that I don't know where they could possibly be!"

Bombur nodded.

"Yes, Middle-Earth is a wide world to get lost."

"And full of perils, too, I must warn you." Bofur was having fun in scaring the stranger, just as he did with Bilbo about Smaug. "There are orcs, and goblins, and giant spiders, and wargs, and until some days ago there was even a dragon!"

"Dragon?" Wolfram stopped and leaned on the wall, dizzy again. "Yes, there was a dragon! He was killed by a Lake-Town man with a black arrow!"

"How can you possibly know it?"

It was time for the dwarves to get startled.

"I remember... I have read this story, several times. But... I cannot remember how it ends!"

The brothers didn't know about Ellen's "possible past" memories, as it was know only by Thorin, his nephews and the Fundinul brothers, who kept this knowledge to themselves, so as not to alarm the crew. Bofur felt baffled, as he tried to scare Wolfram and now the scared one was him.

"What more do you know?"

"I don't know... Wait! Is Thorin all right? I mean, he has the gold sickness, hasn't he?"

"Well, he had, but he was cured by his bride!"

"That is good news!" He started to mumble to himself. "But, wait, then the story is different from what I know. He had no bride at all in the book, actually no woman is mentioned in the book. What can possibly have changed the story?"

"Hey, fellow, we are almost there."

The approached the door with the two huge stone statues lining it.

"Welcome to the halls of Erebor and to the home of Thorin Oakenshield!"

Bombur lead him inside the main living room and Wolfram screamed, and then fainted, dropping his staff. Bofur cursed in Khuzdul to his brother.

"Tie!"

(1 – Mekhem Lamâb could be translated as Gate of Passage, I hope.)


	8. Chapter 35 – The Storm Approaches

Wolfram woke up to see his first impression was true. His sister was now black-haired and had pointed ears; her oldest daughter had grown a side-beard and shrunken almost one foot, and the youngest had hairy feet and was a bit more than three feet tall. A solicitous Bombur handled him a cup of water and left the room, while he sat and tried to shake the dizziness out of his head.

"What, in name of goodness, is happening here?"

"Welcome to Erebor, my brother! And what a lucky meeting, indeed!"

"Sister! Girls! You are alive! I found you! I was so afraid I would never find you again! What happened? Why didn't you take your cell phones with you? I've got almost crazy not having means to contact you!"

"Why would we carry extra weight if we were going to a park where there would be no network?"

The man shook his head at this and the women condensed the story for it not to take too long, and as they spoke it was becoming clear Wolfram's memory had the same blockage they had – he remembered things that already had come to be, but had no hint of the future.

"Vinnie warned me that some Gates have this effect, some faster, some slower, so this is not completely unexpected."

"You say for yourself, brother! Who is this Vinnie?"

"A friend of mine from NerdNet who helped me to get here."

"What is _NerdNet_?"

"A bunch of friends that have, huh, some knowledge about weird things, so to say."

"I never heard about them! Why didn't you tell me about this NerdNet stuff? Why didn't I ever hear about it?"

"You are not nerd enough, dear!"

"I'll take this as an insult!"

"Usually, it is not you that hear about the NerdNet, it is the NerdNet that finds you." His enigmatic smile was priceless. "Well, when I found out you had taken the enchanted map, I put all efforts in finding another Gate and rescue you; I had a lot of help."

"So you _knew_ what this map could do? And left it on the table like any crap of paper?"

"Who would imagine someone would take it?"

An uncomfortable silence fell on them as they glanced at Iris, who was suddenly interested in a certain curl of the hair on her left foot.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore, I found you, we can go home now."

"What do you mean?"

"To go home. Back to our world. What's the matter?"

"Ah, brother, I think we must make something clear first. All this time we spent here in Middle-Earth we have come to... we became very close to someones... if you take my meaning."

"No, I don't. What do you mean?"

"Me and Lily are compromised to certain dwarves. We will have our weddings in less than a year from now. We will not go back."

"_You what_?"

"We will not go back. I'm betrothed to Kili..."

"What happened to your '_out of business'_ state?"

"...and Lily is Thorin's bride. Or who do you think rescued him from gold sickness?"

Wolfram shook his head between his hands.

"I think I'll faint again! This is most definitely interfering in other reality! The NerdNet guys will kill me, we have a compromise of non-interference!"

Ellen laughed.

"No, they won't! It is not _you_ who interfered, it was _us_ and we don't have any compromise with them."

"But the map was in _my_ possession."

"Hmm, well, then I think that yes, they will want to kill you, brother. At least you will have the excuse that our interference is resulting in better things than would have happened without us."

"Yes, for what I remember, you might be right. There will be the paradox of having changed what Tolkien wrote, but as he was one who used a time-travel Gate, the paradox was already set, somehow. The guys will have to cope."

"Well, anyway, it would be most indelicate to leave at once, Wolf. We must introduce you to the Company, I am sure you will want to talk to your son-in-law, I want you to know you brother-in-law, and I did I mention that I was adopted?"

"My head is swirling, but I'm happy for you!"

His smile was sincere.

"And for me, Father?"

Lily's deep sea blue eyes looked for his approval. He took her hands in his.

"Be sure it is not what I believed would ever happen, but what father would not be proud of having his daughter chosen by a king? Even if it seems to have come out of a fairy-tale. Anyway, I know some fairy-tales are true." Then a curiosity came over him. "And you, Iris? You are so quiet, what is disturbing you? Is there something you want to tell me? Or someone?"

She was munching her own lips for a while, already.

"No, Daddy, I have no kings nor princes in my hobbit life. Actually, Fili and Kili are my Little Brothers, but this is not the same as being fully adopted like Aunty was by Balin and Dwalin. All I have to declare is a boyfriend completely fixed in going back to his home in the Shire."

"Bilbo Baggins!" Wolfram stated with delight. "This name is bound to be remembered, just don't ask me why! I'll be proud to shake his hand, albeit I don't know why, but I will when I go home again, I suppose."

There was a small knock at the door and Dori peeped his head in.

"Dearest, the ones we were waiting for have come; will you be able to join this meeting?"

"Sure, Dori, we are going at once."

Ellen turned to her brother.

"Please join us, Wolfram, there will be no time for more time-taking introductions right now, it will come in time, but we girls _must_ attend this meeting."

He agreed and went with his family to the main living room.

Besides the Company, with Bilbo back, there were Gandalf and Bard. Legolas sent word that he was on their side, or, better saying, on the side of peace, and agreed that his father's claims were undue; he swore to Gandalf that he would make his best to change Thranduil's mind.

Thorin humbly asked for Bilbo's forgiveness, and the hobbit not only accepted his apologies but also asked for Thorin's, acknowledging his share of responsibility in the mess that happened. The king didn't explain openly why or how he made up his mind to give up his due gold, but he agreed that, in solely exchange for the Arkenstone, whatever was needed for Lake-Town to be rebuilt would be provided from his share, as well as arrangements would be made to rebuild Dale, as it was destroyed by Smaug in his attack to Erebor. Bard was having a hard time believing that the dwarven king, held by his people as greedy and proud, was really that changed and willing to make all those amends. Actually, Thorin's own Company was quite confused, still trying to understand to what measure his change had gone. The king was free to explain.

"I've learned that sometimes we must give up things once important for the sake of others, that are better."

Thorin's wink to Ellen went almost inconspicuous to most of them.

"Well, and what will we do about the elven king?" It was pragmatic Ellen who asked. "I'm sorry for Lake-Town's economic dependence from him, but he has no claim over us."

"I understand if Lake-Town people assume a neutral position in this, but no help will be handled if you take side with Thranduil, Bard. I hope you understand."

Thorin was the diplomatic one now.

"For my part it is clear, o King Under the Mountain. But, even if I speak as a general, and many people hold me as their leader, Lake-Town still answers to the Master, and he is as greedy as the elven king. I can make no promises in their name."

"No, you can't, master Bard." Gandalf voiced slowly. "Thranduil must be handled another way."

"And which way would it be, wizard?"

"This answer is yet to come."

"As to come is the army of my cousin Dáin Ironfoot. I'll make no war against Lake-Town people, as long as this people stay neutral, but also I'll suffer no siege from Mirkwood people in my own home."

Wolfram got alarmed and tilted his head to Ellen to whisper.

"Are they talking about actual _war_? People killing people? I thought men and dwarves and elves were civilized peoples!"

She answered in the same hushed tone.

"Brother, here in Middle-Earth _this_ is civilization. If you want to know what barbarism is, go make friends with the goblins."

The man shook his head, wide eyed, in response.

They were at this dilemma when they were startled by Nori's mirror set gleaming a message. They didn't figure out a complete code to use it yet, and Ellen was about to ask Wolfram if he could leave her a Morse code schema, but what they had settled upon was enough for them to know they were been called to the balcony. Someone was there to talk to them.

"Hail, Roäc, son of Carc, may your feathers never fall!"

"Hail, Thorin Oakenshield, old fellow! Do you have any cookies in you pocket?"

Wolfram shook his head not only for hearing that big raven talk but also because of the informality of his speech, which Thorin seemed not to mind at all. Well, if he was used to his daughters' way of speaking, he would not mind the bird either.

Thorin produced a cookie and handled it to the raven.

"You will end up fat and slow as a snail."

"I thank you for your compliments."

Roäc ate the cookie in no moment at all.

"What brings you here, o nobler of all ravens?"

"A bit of gossip, as usual." The bird crooked his head in search of another cookie. "The black cloud that comes from the North is not bound to any storm you may feel washing upon your faces; it is a vast cloud of that stupid crows who feast in battle fields, and of bats who serve darker designs; dread has come upon your all!"

Roäc's listeners looked at him in dismay; for their watch post looked everywhere but to the North, and from forth destruction was being announced. Making sure he had their rapt attention, Roäc went on.

"Do you have more cookies?"

Thorin put a hand in his pocket and when Roäc was about to stoop for it the dwarf grabbed the bird's neck.

"I have three cookies for you, _old fellow_. One is named _who_, the other is_ how many_, and the third is _when_. You _sing_, and I give you the cookies."

The raven was taken by surprise, but seemed to be a bit amused by Thorin's quick response, and answered in good mood.

"You will have many hosts of Azog's orcs and bands of goblins around your mountain before this night is over, o King Under the Mountain, that your beard grows with no frills!"

"How much is _many_?"

"I am one, you are two, your friends are three, and all of us are many, o mighty Thorin!" The bird tilted his head. "Does this mean another cookie?"

Wolfram turned to Ellen in a whisper.

"Not even ravens this set are able to count above three?"

She replied as quietly as he asked.

"And is any other set of bird able to count anything at all?"

Thorin put a generous handful of Bombur's cookies on the battlement and thanked the raven. Gandalf turned to the whole assembly of dwarves, hobbits, elf and men.

"There is yet time for council. We must send word to Dáin that his enemy is other than he was summoned to fight against, and to Thranduil that now is the time when he might show his valor as representative of one of the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth! Let us haste!"

They didn't go back to the camp at once, as Gandalf intended to speak a bit more with the newcomer first, albeit his haste. Wolfram was properly introduced to the Company as Ellen's twelve year older brother and Lily and Iris's father, but then the grey wizard greeted him in a way that surprised them all.

"Welcome to the circles of Arda, Wolfram the Green!"

"What do you mean?" Asked a surprised Wolfram, wide eyed.

"It was about time for Yavanna to send one more of hers to help in the struggle."

"Sorry, sir, but there must be some mistake. I was born human, to human parents, and even passing through the Gate I kept human, do you see? I have no memory of anything that is not related to my human life, I never went to Valinor, I'm a awful singer, so, no way, no chance that I am even remotely related to anything about your order!"

Gandalf smiled, amused.

"And where did you hear me say otherwise?"

"Uh, when you mention Yavanna sending someone of hers?"

"And do you think she cannot chose a champion elsewhere instead of sending personally someone from Valinor?"

Wolfram looked down, confused.

"Uh, she could at least have asked?"

The grey wizard laughed.

"You can bet a tuna can she has, and that you agreed to it, even if you were not aware of who she was at that time. "

Thorin was greatly interested in the matter.

"So it comes that we will have two wizards at our side in this battle? This will be splendid!"

The man seemed to be in panic, weaving "no" with his hands, wide eyed. Gandalf came in his rescue.

"Sorry, Thorin, but my colleague here has no training at all. It would be dangerous for us all to have him wielding his staff, and for what I reckon he has no fighting training at all, isn't it so? Not even the training these three ladies had when we knew them."

"Yes, it is, I have no training, no skill, no desire to be in a battlefield, so you don't worry, I'll stay here out of the way with the girls, all right?"

Thorin and Gandalf exchanged looks, but said nothing to him about his last statement. It would be for the women to talk to him about this issue.

With this settled Gandalf and Bard left Erebor to council with elves and men, having already planned with Thorin and Roäc having been sent to inform Dáin and his people of the change of the tide.

Wolfram had a private conversation with Thorin and his nephews, as he wanted at least to know a bit more about the ones who captured the hearts of two of the most important persons in his life, and Fili wouldn't be out of this for nothing on earth; what Wolfram heard left him more at ease, but the distance was something he would have to cope yet.

"I understand your worries, o Wolfram the Green, but I swear your daughter will be treated as a queen. As a matter of fact, she _will be_ a queen."

"And then, there is the Gate of Passage, isn't it?" Kili offered. "If you came through it once, you can come again to visit us!"

"Yes, this is a good idea, though it is not a very easy passage for one not used to dive. But this Gate doesn't stay open all the time, I was very lucky indeed to find it open at all, or at least so my friend Vinie told me. Also, there is a time mismatch, for what I can reckon they adventured here in Middle-Earth for close to seven months while in my world only four weeks have passed."

"We've seen people that seem to be from your world in the depths of Mirkwood; maybe there is another Gate, too." Fili added. Wolfram took this note.

"I will try to find it out with my NerdNet fellows."

"It would be an honor to have you present at our weddings." Thorin stated. "Think kindly about this, and if there is any open Gate for you to come, our humble halls will always be open for you, master Wolfram. We really mean it."

They shook hands warmly, and the dwarves went to finish preparations for the upcoming battle.

Until close to sunset, Wolfram didn't quite understand that albeit his offering to stay back with the _girls_, the _girls_ did not intend to stay at home at all. After looking with interest all weaponry preparations the dwarves were making, he went back to the headquarters and found them three full armored with Erebor's finest, from silver wrought helms to mithril chainmail hauberks, from lightweighed steel vambraces to perfectly articulated pauldrons. Lily was rearranging her quivers for a better balance and Iris and Ellen were sharpening their swords.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"The same everyone in the Company we belong to is doing, brother. Setting up for battle."

"No way! You are not going to this battle, what are you thinking?"

"Dad, we are not the little princess dolls you think! We are capable, and we won't leave the Company without our aid!" Complained Lily.

"What aid? You are two urban twentieth-first century girls, one of them a _teenager_, with no experience in warfare at all; let's war be made by warriors if it has to be made at all!"

"Sorry, brother, but I think you are not quite informed yet."

Ellen paced in front of him, trying to reason, although understanding his resistance. She counted on her fingers.

"Considering that actually Iris killed the Goblin King..."

"_What_?"

Wolfram wide eyes showed his astonishment.

"He called me _puppy_." Was the girl simple explanation.

"... and Lily shot an arrow in Smaug's eye..."

"_You_ did it?"

The girl just nodded at him.

"... I'd rather say they gathered training and experience enough in the last months to grant them good odds in a battle."

"Ellen, how can you possibly say such a thing? You cannot put yourself and my daughters at risk because of a war that is not yours, in a _world_ that is not yours! Please!"

"Wolf, you can say this is not _your_ world, but, sorry, now it is indeed _my_ world, and it is _my folk _going to war!"

"You can answer for yourself, but not for my daughters!"

Wolfram was really angry, but his little princesses had become strangers to him; or, better saying, they had acquired the attitude he hoped them to have, but in a time and place where this could be far more dangerous than he could account for.

"Your first-born daughter is bride to the _king_, and a proud shield-maiden!" The dwarf-lass defended herself. "I would be ashamed if left at home sewing shrouds for my companions!"

"And you, Iris? Holly Eru, you are just sixteen!"

The hobbit girl unsheathed her twin swords and made them sing in her hands with movements almost too fast for him to follow with his eyes.

"Twenty-five in hobbit age, actually." Iris had her face calm as a dam ready to burst. "You know, my father taught me an old German moto that said '_One does evil enough when one does nothing good'_. Now here I am at the crossroads of doing something good or of doing nothing." She stopped and sheathed the swords without even looking at the scabbards, and then locked her sky blue eyes with Wolfram. "Which road does my father counsel me to take?"

The man shook his head. He understood their points of view, but being just dropped into Middle-Earth and the dwarven struggles, he was still an outsider, just trying to protect his family. Wolfram was still trying to find a way they could be safe without actually fighting, but helping in the battle anyway because it was the _right_ thing to do, when they heard the sound of horns in the distance.

"What is this?"

He had no time to get an answer. Bombur's favorite frying pan, deftly wielded by Ellen, clanged on his head and sent him to the world of dreams, where he could philosophize as much as he wanted.

"Sorry, brother, but we have no time for negotiation right now."

The elf turned to the girls.

"He will be fine, I've done it before. Let's put him in a bed and do what has to be done."

Wolfram woke up with a light headache and for a moment didn't remember why. Actually, he didn't even remember where he was, but it came back to his mind quite quickly. He sat up in the bed, worried, looking around searching for his daughters and sister; none of them was to be seen, not them nor any dwarf, hobbit, wizard, whatever. Then he stood up, trying to find his way in the strange place, got to the living room and found a note on the main table, addressed to him in her sister's angular handwriting.

_"Dearest brother,_

_I'm sorry for having hit you (again!), but there is a dirty job to be done out there and somebody has to do it._

_While we are at "work", I ask you please to forgive us, because there is really no way we can be out of this battle. As I tried to explain, this war is ours to the last consequences._

_I ask you also to please use your language knowledge to translate the attached file, oops, I mean, the paper sheet under this one, because I believe you are the only living person in Middle-Earth able to read it. I know the first line says "Long and prosperous life" in Esperanto, but from the remaining text all I could figure out is the word "Klingon", so, as you are the Trekkie of the family, I hope you can figure out what it says. This is what is written on the Tomb Stone close to the Mirror Lake from where you came into Middle-Earth; I hope it may have instructions of how to use the Gate of Passage to go back._

_Pray for us._

_Love for ever,_

_Ellen Fundinul"_


	9. Chapter 36 – The Battle of Five Armies

A/N: A sad chapter, but this not the end.

* * *

War had come at last to the Lonely Mountain. Goblins and Orcs leaded by Azog the Defiler, with his son Bolg at his side, against Dwarves and Elves and Men. Following Elrond's speech, Thranduil reasoned that the enemy of your enemy is your friend, and few enemies had the ability to make others conjoin forces as the orcs. It was a terrible battle, not expected by the Free Peoples, but that the orcs had been preparing since they had notice of Durin's line seeking to retake Erebor.

Thanks to the ravens, the Free Peoples had their chance to prepare themselves, and knowing the size of the Orc army they knew their only hope was to lure them into the arms of the Mountain and attack them from above, making their stand in its spurs. There was no time to summon more help, nor to make any other plan. Dain was told to come rounding the Mountain from the North to take them from rearguard; the elves took the southern spur and men and the Company took the Eastern spur. The enemies swarmed, rushing into the ruins of Dale; some brave men stood them and feigned a resistance, so as a bait for them to follow their draw back and be driven into the arms of the Mountain, as Gandalf hoped; all they could do was to clean the way off orcs and wargs the better they could.

The elves were the first to charge upon the enemies, for their hatred for the orcs was old and bitter. Many an arrow found its path into a dark heart, and many a spear made its way into a menacing gnarl, killing both warg and rider. Sorrowful enough, many elf that would live long merry ages fell that night, and would wander in the woods no more.

The Company mingled its efforts with the men that were leaded by Bard, as the Master of Lake-Town had stayed behind with his people, where he found it to be safer. The orcs scaled the Mountain as they could, and they were far too much to be bothered by the amount of them that fell under the fierce defense of dwarves and men, as they feared Azog more than death herself.

When Dain's army reached them it was not too soon, and this unexpected reinforcement barely changed the balance of the fight; for nor elf nor men of the Lake had come for a widespread battle, but mostly for a show of bellicosity aimed to intimidate Thorin and his Company, no more than this. But Azog had planned this battle in the hatred of his heart, and they were many, and foul.

Fili, Iris and Bilbo had lightened a small fire enough for them to light their small hand bombs and throw them into the midst of bunches of orcs, or, better still, when they could haul them to groups of warg mounted orcs, because then the fire would take into the fur and spread, like it did back in the pine patch after leaving the Goblin's den. The hobbits had a wonderful aim, but had to take care not shot in a range that could harm their allies. When the bombs were over, Iris and Fili got their swords and went into the fray. Bilbo, being almost as war-shy as Wolfram, put on his ring and disappeared, so he could at least escape from being purposely aimed for.

Then it all happened too fast. One moment Ellen was close to Kili and Thorin, and the next one the tide of orcs had swept them apart. The elf fought her way back to where she had seen them last time, and joined Lily in the way, shooting the arrows of her last quiver. Soon the dwarf would have to use her sword if she was to defend herself. Iris and Fili came running from the other side, the four blades wielded as if by one single mind. Then they heard a shouting of joy, for the eagles were coming to aid them. The orcs got fiercer, if this was possible, perceiving the odds had turned against them.

The two families were fighting close together again, but the orcs around them were wild with fear and had nothing left to lose. Thorin blocked a mighty blow from one of them, but a heavy mace caught his back, making him drop to the ground. Fili was close enough to kill that one, but Iris had been dragged from his side by the swarm. None saw from where the black feathered arrow came, and if it was by sorcery or bad luck that it found its way through his helm and got into his throat. The blond dwarf dropped one sword and put his hand on the wound, confused; then he saw his own blood washing down on him, knelt, and fell down for the last time.

Lily and Kili were doing their best with their swords, both of them out of arrows, when she saw her loved one and his nephew on the ground. She cried as she ran, Kili at her side shouting wild in his pain. Ellen escaped a mighty blow when an eagle caught the orc that was about to hit her and flew off with him, and then she saw them both running to the place where King and Heir had fallen. A dark sense of foreboding alarmed her, and she ran to them.

"No! No! It cannot happen! It won't!"

As the elf ran she saw a picture that would remain forever in her memory. Lily took Orcrist from Thorin's limp hand and wielded it fiercely at the last orcs in range. Kili knelt beside his brother and called his Khuzdul name, shaking him in despair, oblivious of the battle still around him. Ellen was out of reach when she saw the upcoming orc and shouted for Kili. He turned around in time to avoid the first blow, but he had dropped his sword and was unable to reach for it before the second blow came on his chest, tearing his armor. Lily heard her aunt's shout and turned to him in time to behead the foul orc, and then Ellen reached them.

"No! No! Not Kili, no!"

"He is bleeding too much, try to stop it!" Lily cried.

"How?" Ellen panicked.

"Find the cut, apply pressure! I must see Thorin, I heard him moan when I was close to him!"

"Go!"

The eagles were doing a magnificent job, and the area around the women had been swept free. Lily was right, Thorin was internally injured, plus several wounds, but not dead. She muttered softly to him as she tried to make him more comfortable, freeing him from his helm and broken armor the best she could, avoiding to move him too much.

"You will be fine, I'll take care of you, hold on, my love, my king, my everything!"

But he did not stir, and she was unable to move the heavy built dwarf from the battle field alone. She kept murmuring low, easing his head in her lap, caressing his beard and strands of hair, kissing his forehead while her own tears ran freely down her cheeks.

While she was at this, her aunt was deep in trouble with Kili. She loosened Kili's armor and tore his garment wildly, looking for the bleeding that was taking him away from her. Ellen found it on his right side, close to the shoulder, and tried to keep it shut with her hand, but it didn't seem to be working. His breath was shallow, his skin was pale, and the blood kept gushing from the wound. She managed to take off her left vambrace so her hand would be more free to press on his body. How could he survive without all that blood? Would he die? Why should that faithful dwarf die this way? It was not fair!

Her mind ran wild in her despair, but then it stuck her. If her faithful chosen one had been heard by his Vala before, could she be heard too? Despair was stronger than her Cartesian mind.

"Varda! Mahal! Hear my plea!"

She cried as she looked up at the night sky, half expecting to see them there.

"I have no beard I can promise for Kili's life, so I sacrifice what I have and he lacks!"

Ellen took her sword and made a cut in her left forearm. The blood gushed out as she winced for the pain, and pressed her wound against his.

"Mahal! Varda! Hear my plea!"

She lowered her head to his chest, and could hear his heart beat slowing down. Then it stopped.

It could not be! No! She would sacrifice anything to have him back, _anything_!

"Varda! Mahal!" She cried out once more, desperate tears striking her face. "_I make the choice of Lúthien_!" (1)

Mahal was really moved by Ellen's plea, but with so much dying that night it was difficult to chose what pleas should be granted and what ones denied. And she was no dwarf, after all. But then, making the choice of Lúthien? Wasn't it a little too much?

"Tintallë, what do you think of this case?"

The blue shining lady looked down with him to the battle field.

"She is not joking, this elf will really die out of grief if Mandos takes this one dwarf."

"She doesn't even have royal blood to make this kind of choice, does she?"

"Come on, don't be so bureaucratic! This boy has royal blood, it should be enough; and, royal is who royal does, don't you think so? She is giving her own blood for him, how many royal blooded ones do you know who would do this?"

"Hmm, it seems you made up your mind already."

"Aulë, my friend, the boy has already proven faithful to you more than once, why don't you think kindly of him? And, as for her, a willing heart should not be denied."

"His wound is deep."

"Nothing that your forge cannot mend."

"His heart doesn't beat."

"Nothing that your hammer cannot fix."

The mighty Vala nodded at her.

"Let's be done then."

His heart was not beating. She was losing him. The one man who moved her heart in years was going away. Ellen could not stand it. It was too much for her, and she broke. The elf cried hard, oblivious to the remnants of battle around her. She sobbed deeply, unwilling to admit his death. The wind swept a cloud away, showing the pale light of the moon. She was sad, and she was angry. When she realized he would really be leaving her, she could not stand it, and in her anger her right hand closed into a fist and hit hard on the middle of Kili's chest, and then she collapsed over him, crying.

Then she heard it, with her head close to his chest. Softly at first, but it could not be mistaken. His heart was beating. He coughed and took in a deep breath.

Then she felt it. Her forearm was kind of burning at the cut she made, and she felt Kili's skin getting hot around the wound. She took her arm from his chest and looked down at the gashes. They were closing before her eyes, both bleedings stopped at the same time. Ellen looked at Kili in disbelief. They heard her. The Valar heard her plea and Kili was back to her.

The eagles had come and made their stand in the battle, that for their unexpected help (called for by Gandalf, of course) should be called the Battle of the Six Armies, instead of five; Beorn had come, too, in his bear form, and made a difference, along with Radagast and his rabbits, that if didn't do much in fighting did a lot in making the enemy confused, and so, easier to get fought.

After the battle was over, Bilbo was hard to be found, as he got a stone thrown in his head, and even with a helm it was enough for him to get knocked down. But found he was, as he was strongly looked for, as were all members of the Company, for Thorin's injuries were serious and non amendable, even to Gandalf and Radagast and Thranduil himself, to whom Thorin granted his forgiveness. He too had fallen to a gold sickness, and understood Thranduil's greed, and in this darkest hour he was even able to relate to him. Thorin was making his best to say his farewell to every and all of his subjects and closest friends. Even Wolfram was called to get out of Erebor to part from him, and asked for forgiveness for not having made his daughter a queen in time.

When Bilbo was found, he was shoved at once to the tent where Thorin was made to rest; Gandalf himself made him get in, glad for seeing him in this dark hour.

"It was a nearly disastrous business, but here you are, Bilbo my friend, and you are looked for." He lowered his voice. "Thorin calls for you. It is a grave moment, if you take my meaning." They entered the tent. "Hail, Thorin. I have brought him."

Thorin looked up at the hobbit, who knelt on one knee, filled with sorrow, and took a hand in his.

"Farewell, my good burglar! I go now to the Halls of Waiting, where I will not be ashamed to be in the presence of my forefathers."

"Farewell, o King Under the Mountain! It was a bitter adventure, and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet, I am glad I had a chance to share it with you, as no Baggins would ever deserve."

"Don't say harsh words to yourself, kind child of the West, for there is more good in you that you know; some courage and some wisdom, in the right measure. If food and cheer and song were valued more than treasures and gold, this word would be merrier indeed. Fare you well, my friend!"

His pain struck eyes left the hobbit and sought for his living nephew, who had an arm in a sling, then to the strange elf he learned to trust, and back to Kili. He should be fast, the inner bleeding would not stop, his time was short, and he knew it by the way his left shoulder pained although there was no damage to it. He could not even lay down for the pain, just sat leaned on some pillows.

"You both." Kili leant closer, not to let him exert himself talking out loud. "Don't forget to give Durin's _bloody_ _line_ some heirs." He glanced at Ellen, then back to Kili, and then tightened his hand around Lily's. "It is already too late for me, now." One more painful breath. "Tell your mother I love her…"

"I will." Kili whispered.

"And to forgive me for Fili…"

Then a great sob found its way up Thorin's throat. Lily cried his name as the blood sipped out of his mouth, the once star shining eyes found a target in the distance and begun to tarnish, as Lily embraced him hard one last time and heard him whisper to the stars.

"_Durin_…"

They sat on a log afar from the others and leant on each others shoulders, Kili's body still shaking with sobs of grief, Ellen's eyes shedding silent but non-stopping tears. His trembling voice came to her as a faint whisper.

"It should not be so, it wasn't meant to be this way, it shouldn't!"

She gathered up her strength from she didn't know where when the already known dizziness overcame her. She wept away the tears that kept flooding her eyes and cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"You are right, it was not meant to be this way. It was meant for you to die with your brother, protecting your fallen uncle, and the first line of Durin would have ceased to be."

His sobs gave way as he stared at her in shock. It was always uncanny when she darted her otherworldly knowledge of fate, and he thought about how hard it must be on her to have memories of things that could affect the future and be unable to reach them until it was too late.

"It should have been different, but, I don't know why, the Valar heard my plea, and here you are, Kili, King Under the Mountain."

"I don't feel prepared to be a king, it was never something I looked for. Of course I had the same training my brother had, but I never took care, kingship was never in my thoughts." He sobbed in dismay. "What shall I do? This quest was for _Uncle_ to take back Erebor, _he_ was to be the King Under the Mountain, and _Fili_ would succeed him, and _I_ was the careless nephew and brother, nothing more. What shall I do? How will I make Erebor the kingdom it once was? Or even a shadow of it? I have not the skills a king must have."

They embraced once more, but her mind was spinning fast. Then she realized.

"But you don't have to."

"Don't I have to what?"

"To have the skills a king must have. Or, at least, all the skills you believe a king must have."

"What are you talking about? You never had any training on kingship matters, as long as I know."

"No, I hadn't, I had something else, but it will do. You think you have not the skills of a king, but you don't have to."

"What…?"

"All you have to do is to round yourself with reliable people who have the skills the kingdom needs, and then make them do what has to be done."

"I don't understand."

His eyes where lost.

"Kili, it is right here, around you. Do you think Thorin chose these ten guys out of nothing?"

Ellen started to point the dwarves close by, her mind racing.

"You said yourself you are inexperienced with kingship things, but no king rules alone. You can take counsel with Dain Ironfoot in the first years, even if he has his own realm to take care for in the Iron Hills. He is kin, of course he will help to train you in whatever may be lacking in your training for kingship. You can always count on Balin's advice, as long as he is with us. Dwalin and Bifur are experienced warriors, they can train people, coordinate Erebor's security body."

He began to take her line of reasoning. Albeit his pain, in his body and in his soul, the royal blood in him was making him turn to the needs of his people.

"Then there is Ori."

"Ori?"

"Yes, Ori. Take him to record the history of the realm, of its losses, of its conquests. A people who forgets the past is doomed to repeat its mistakes. Let Ori record what there is to be recorded, ever. And then his brother Nori."

"Nori? He was the most strange choice Uncle made. Not that I don't like him, but I know he has a way of twisting things to what suits him best."

"And do you think a skill like this should be thrown away or be put to the service of the kingdom?"

"To the service of the kingdom, of course."

"Back at my place we call it _diplomat_. Let Nori be our Maquiavel."

Kili wondered what a _makiawell_ might be.

"Bombur is fully able to take care of all the supply chain Erebor needs, Bofur can take on culture issues…"

"Culture issues?"

"I know you dwarves love to work, but everyone must have his share of music, dance, personal interrelationship opportunities…"

It made some sense.

"And there are Óin and Glóin. Did you notice how they are always thinking of how to better things? Better the way a pack can be carried, better the way a sword can be sharpened, did you see how they managed to make our camp down the mountain homely?"

"Sure. It surprised me."

"Any town, be it over or under a mountain, must have its maintenance. I really believe they are the ones to coordinate it."

A hint of a smile took his lips. Now that she said, it was all so clear.

"And Dori? He should not be the one to be forgotten."

"Sure not. But we are mentioning things that are, and he is meant for things that are to be.

"What do you mean?"

"Children, Kili. I have never found someone with more patience than Dori to teach, explain, train, guide, and instigate thought. Erebor will need him if it is to last more than one generation."

* * *

(1 – The Choice of Lúthien: Lúthien Tinúveil was an elf princess who chose mortal life in behalf of the life of Beren, her human husband. Arwen also made this choice, to be wife to Aragorn.)


	10. Chapter 37 – Many Partings

A/N: Hello dear readers, I'm really sad about Thorin's death, but I'm sorry, it was _Tolkien_ who killed him, not me! Anyway, I'm providing a full time bodyguard service, just in case...

I really thank you for all kind reviews and suport along this 36 days, you helped a lot to improve the story, albeit the body of it was already written I must send special thanks to:

- LalithElerrina, for the suggestions right at the beginning, it made a difference;

- Katschaba and Artemis Faery, your curiosity and suport meant everything to me!

- MadameZou, I'm still sorry for the keyboard!

- 123PetMaster, thanks to you the "lies" scene was written;

- IfBooksWereFood, thanks to you the "memory of the forge" scene was written;

- PurpleFairy11, you are what loyalty means!

- Erutan, you had me shedding tears of laughter, you made my day!

Tomorrow there will be an Epilogue. And then... it is in the hands of Mahal!

* * *

It took a while to burn the orcs and wargs corpses, and to provide proper burials for all the fallen ones, and first of all was the mending and healing of the wounded ones. The horseleech healer from Lake-Town proved himself a fast and diligent sewer, and he worked along with Óin bringing relief to many a dwarf and men. Lily was too pain struck to help, and spent her time with glazed eyes beside Thorin's body, unable to eat or to drink.

She barely breathed.

Iris was torn, too, barely leaving Lily's side, as along with Thorin lay the body of Fili, her dear Little Brother. After Ellen's insight on how to deal with kingship matters, Kili went into a dark mood also, as everything that gave meaning to his life until then lay dead on the cold stone.

Ellen and Wolfram sat together, as albeit the sorrow of the hour they had to elucidate some points before he went back to his world. His, no more hers.

"What is all that Klingon stuff? What did you find out, Wolf?"

"Ellen, this Gate was found by a man of our world in the sixties. If you find his real tomb, you may find inside it his writings in a more common language than Klingon. He made the inscriptions in the stone close to Mirror Lake only to leave instructions of how to use the Gate."

"But why in Klingon?"

"As a NerdNet guy, or whatever our group called itself by then, he wanted to be sure no creature from _here_ would easily find the way to get _there_. You can imagine that our world would not know how to deal with orcs or dragons, or yet darker forces. That's what the NerdNet does, we keep the Gates safe, or at least try to. By writing in Klingon he made sure only a nerd from our world would be able to find and use the Gate."

"All right, I'm getting used to the idea that I'm _not_ nerd enough!"

"Thankfully, he left instructions on the other side too, else I would not be able to find this Gate. There are others, but this was the first Middle-Earth Gate NerdNet guys found for me, and I went for it at once. Even so it took a while to reach it, and it was not easy to get last hour air tickets to Indonesia."

"_Indonesia_?"

"Yes, the other side of this Gate is in a small lake close to Kelimutu mountain, in the Isle of Flores. Do no mistake it for the Kelimutu lakes that change their color, that ones are poisonous with volcano fumes."

"Be sure I really wont mistake them, brother!" She shook her head, helpless.

"Well, and then there is the timing problem. It only opens when the summer solstice in the south hemisphere occurs along the new moon, in our world; then it stays open the whole week of the new moon, on our world's side, and seven times this long here in Erebor, forty nine days around dwarven New Years Day. We have a couple of days, yet, but then it will take _twenty eight_ Middle-Earth years for it to open again.

"Hmm, but only four years in your world. You may be able to visit me then!" The elf was smiling.

"It is not a very smooth transition, fast changing Gates are quite… nauseous, I'd describe it, but I guess yes, as it will be the only way for us three to see you again."

"Lily is going with you too, then. I thought as much."

"It was hard to talk to her, she is too hurt inside, but she agreed that staying here would only bring her more pain. We hope back at home her heart may heal, may be human again and heal."

"I hope so. And Iris, is she willing to go home without complain?"

"Actually, no, but this choice is mine, not hers."

Ellen teased him just a bit, to be sure her brother shared her own thoughts.

"She fought fiercely in the battle..."

"I know. If she fought math and geography as fiercely as she fights orcs and goblins, I'd let her stay with the blink of and eye. When she shows herself mature enough to take her own decisions' consequences, we may talk about Bilbo and the Shire again."

They went quiet for a while, thinking of what would mean to be worlds apart.

"Will you be able to stay for Thorin's funeral?"

"I don't think so. The Gate is about to close, I don't want to risk. And it may be better for Lily to keep the memory of him as she knew him, not inside a tomb."

"You are wise, brother. Yavanna chose well."

"Ahm, I still have to find out what this Yavanna thing means, but I noticed my walking stick turned into a staff. I imagine it will turn back to a walking stick when I pass through the Gate again."

"Hey, and don't you forget that you can always '_fall_' here using the map!"

She handled him the enchanted map, smiling.

"It is too unstable. I don't know if I would have the courage to use it, not knowing where I would fall to."

Sister and brother embraced warmly, eyes shut for a while, and then let it go. It was a though departure, for they knew now the passages could only be opened in a short while every twenty eight years, as time passed at a different pace in each world. So, after closed this time, it was not sure they would be able to see each other again in this life. In a way, it was like death was coming upon them. Wolfram asked her once more:

"Are you sure? The Gate will be open for some while, yet. We are your family, you have your job, friends, your whole life to leave behind. Are you really sure?"

Ellen sighed.

"I am, my brother, I am. Now, that I know you know this world, I know you will understand. My real friends are those crazy boffering players who would give anything to live in a world like this. I love my job, but I feel no guilt in leaving it behind, there are lots of people who can do what I do, no one really needs _me_, they only need what I am _able to do_. And you…" She sighed once more. "You and the girls are my only family, and you know where I am now, and that I am happy here, more happy than I have been in so many years. Would you not want me to be happy as I am?"

His eyes got wet.

"You know all I want is to know you are happy! Since the snowboard accident…"

"So, you got it. Where in our world will I find again a man who doesn't fear me? I have found boys to whom I could be a friend, or a _mother_, and play with them for a while, but it would never satisfy me, it has never satisfied me; and I found some men who could have lightened and kept alive the fire within, but then I found out they were just kids, too, for they never had the nerve to stand as I stay, to fight for life the way I fought all my life time. And I don't mean boffering at all." She bit her lips. "You don't know what it is like to really stand back to back with someone and fight one for each other's life, do you? When it would be so easy just to duck and let the enemy's arrow get into the others back, and you don't do it?"

It was his turn to sight. He had seen so much junk pass through his sister's life, and there was nothing he could do about it then. Now she found someone worthy to die for. Maybe now the best he could do was… to do nothing at all, and respect her wish.

"I'll tell the police there was no trace of you. The girls will keep your secret, too, rest assured."

"How will you explain that they disappeared in our country and reappeared in Indonesia?"

"NerdNet guys will help me."

"I'll try to find a way to send you news whenever it is possible, ok? Just keep your library where it is."

"I'll will."

The parting was bound to be full of tears. Bilbo knew his place was in the Shire, but that his heart would always be with Iris, wherever she might be. They walked hand in hand for a while, none of them daring to break the silence for fear it would break their already cracked hearts. They sat on a boulder near the lake in front of Dale, the chill wind almost unable to stir the water, where the stars were reflected along with their sad faces. He took a deep breath, unsure of what to say.

"It is almost time for you to go."

Her eyes closed.

"I know. But I don't want to."

They embraced, and he held her wishing he could never let her go.

"I know."

"Why must I go? Why can't I stay here like Aunt, to live the love I found? Why can't I choose my own life?"

Now she was getting rebel and frustrated. He really _had to_ be firm with her, although it hurt him the same. He reasoned.

"Iris, you can't choose right now because you are a youngling with lots of life ahead, it is too early to take so a decision you may regret in some few years. I know, I know, don't punch me so hard, I myself don't believe you will change your mind, nor that you are too young to make hard choices, but there are other reasons you should consider."

She stopped to hit his chest with her closed fists and heard.

"You must fulfill your dreams. It is not here that your dreams reside, they are on the other side of that Gate. That is why you must go."

_"You_ are my dream, can't you understand?"

He shook his head, looking down at her wet angry eyes, caressing gently her cheeks.

"No, I'm not. All this short time we are together, I see your eyes glistening when you talk about your _choir classes_, about your _high school_ friends, about the _college_ you want to go to, about the _rock show_ you went to, about how much you miss your _electrical shower_ bath, your _internet_ and _microwave_ oven, about learning to _drive an automobile_, and all this mad things I don't even have a clue of what they are!"

"But you could learn, you could go with us and…"

"No, I could not, and you know it! I am shire-folk, and that means too simple a being to be in your dreams for long if I had to be your daily reality. What would you do in your world with an almost middle-aged Halfling? How long would it take for you to be bored of me?"

"I would never…"

"But yes, you would! Your high school friends would laugh at me, you would be embarrassed. I would fear to use your microwave oven, and I really don't know what on goodness would make go somewhere to see rocks being showed at me."

She closed her eyes and sighed, her feelings in turmoil. She was, after all, only sixteen in her world, and not always very responsible, what could make her believe she could stand everything Bilbo just mentioned?

"You don't love me. You said you wanted to marry me, now you want me to go."

"Iris, look at me. If I ever found love on this blessed Middle-Earth, it was you to bring it to me. Always remember this. I..." The hobbit took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, swallowing hard. I was not easy. "I may have been turned into a burglar, but I'm not a liar. I love you. And I want to marry you. I know what love is because I knew you, and I will never forget you, and you will be always in my heart."

"Then, why can't I stay?"

The hobbit-lass was crying again, and Bilbo had an idea and made up a plan. "Sweetie, this decision is not ours to take, yet. You will be allowed to make your own decisions after you come of age, I presume, isn't it so?"

"Yes, I hope so."

"Then, when you come of age, you can decide. You will have had time to go to your _rock shows_ with your _highschool_ friends and _pop corns_ in your _microwave oven_, and to think if the Shire is really where you want to live the rest of your live. The Gate will be there, whatever your decision might be. And I will be in the Shire, waiting for you."

She didn't quite believe what she was hearing. It was true, there was hope!

"Will you really wait for me?"

"Forever and a day." And he meant it.

"This love is like a dream to me!"

"And to me!" They were happy again, a new light in their eyes. She would grow up her _betweens_, Bilbo hoped, and blossom into a wonderful woman, and he would skip her chatter age in the calmness of Bag End. Then, if she decided for Middle-Earth, he would be there for her; if not, he would not be the one to blame for getting her stuck in his world when her heart was in her former life style. Bilbo broke the silent embrace.

"And, I really must say, Ellen promised that if you don't get your college grade because of me she will pull out my heart with a soup spoon."

Iris laughed.

"Yes, she would be capable of this, you are right."

Iris kissed him lightly, just to bring his warmth and his taste to the depths of her, so she could carry this memory with her.

They walked slowly back to Erebor's Front Gate, hand in hand. Then Iris reminded herself of something and pulled a hard thing from her pocket.

"Bilbo I need you to make me a favor. Please!"

"Yes, Iris, whatever is in my reach!"

"I will not be here for Fili's funeral. I want you to put this with him when... when he is lowered down... you know..."

Bilbo took the tuna can from Iris's hands, confused.

"What...?"

"Thorin will be sent down with the Arkenstone in his hands, I've been told. I got this from my father's backpack, I know he wouldn't mind. This... this was one of our best jokes, ever. I... Fili really would be happy to know he has a tuna can all of his own."

The two hobbits embraced with the tuna can in their hands, shedding tears for the sorrowful end of the Mischievous Company.

The remainders of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield accompanied Wolfram and his daughters down to Mirror Lake. Lily was in almost catatonic state, and Iris was unable to stop her tears. The parting ones embraced the staying ones, not all able to utter a word of farewell, as they were brokenhearted too. Kili dropped to his knees to embrace Iris, mingling their tears.

"Be good to your Father, so he allows you to come visit us!"

"I will make more than this, you will see, Little Brother! You will see!"

Dwalin and Balin were the last ones to shake hands with Wolfram, tapping his shoulder.

"We must thank you for the Jewel you delivered in our world, even if for a little while. If she had not cured Thorin from the Gold Sickness, it would have been an even darker end to our quest."

"I don't know what she has done, but I'm glad she has."

"And thank you for leaving your sister to us as well. She is a pride to Fundin's line."

"I bet a tuna can I would have no other choice!"

Wolfram turned at last to his pointy-eared sister.

"Wolf, my brother, I must ask you a last favor before you go."

"Anything, Ellen."

"When you are back to our city, please go to my office..."

"Yes?"

"And tell the Human Resources Director that _I quit_!"

The tall man nodded, smiling; then he took his daughters hands in his and jumped into the silver shining waters.


	11. Epilogue

A/N: So, wonderful readers, there is it, the end of it... or not!

I'm working on a sequel to this story, it will be called "Send me an Owl", and actually the letter in this Epilogue is it the Prologue of the next story. As it is still on the anvil, I intend to update weekly. s/9363702/1/Send-me-an-Owl

I thank you again for all reviews, tips and support, I'm enthralled to see how wide this story has spread, and I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I apologize for my many mistakes and mispellings, as English is not my first language.

Namarië!

* * *

_Valinor_

He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes a slit. It was too clear around, though he could no figure out where the sun might be. It was not cold, it was not warm, and he was not hungry. Everything was comfortable, more than he had been comfortable for a long time. He noticed his shoulder and other wounds didn't bother him anymore, either. He was tired, tough, and closed his eyes to sleep a bit more.

He woke up with the feeling of being observed, and sat up at once, startled. He could not see his observer, and begun to search the place, warily. It was not as full of light as before, and he felt the place he was sleeping on was not as smooth, although his muscles felt perfectly rested.

It was a large stone room, and he didn't figure out what kind of place was that. He saw two hearths, one on each side of the room, the closest one meant for comfort, with its golden flames licking... what? That was not wood, at least didn't look like wood. It looked more like... stones. Burning stones. Now he was sure he had seen everything in this world.

The heat of the fire made him feel thirsty and then saw a water flagon on a table nearby, and a mug he was sure he didn't see there before. He poured some water in the mug, warily, but the water didn't make anything unexpected. It was crystal clear, no smell, and he decided to take a probing sip. Water. Plain water, refreshing, tasteless, water. He drank it down in small sips, exploring the place with slow steps. Somehow, he knew he didn't have to haste.

There were tools on the wall, and scattered on a workbench were several pieces of handiwork in different stages of completeness. Most of them he could not understand, but some were quite what he was used to make himself. He felt a sting in his heart thinking how long it had been since he used a forge last time. It felt worse when he remembered when it actually was. He sighed and shook his head, sad. There was nothing he could do now. Only wait.

He left the water mug on the workbench when he noticed a particularly known object on the other side of the room, close to the forge hearth, and went for it. There was an anvil, and an unfinished war axe waiting to be worked on, the metal glowing red, begging to be hammered, shaped into what it was meant to become. If he was left in that room for any reason at all, this might well be the reason. That axe was calling for him, and he yearned for the heat of the forge, the weight of the hammer in his hand, the sound of metal against metal reverberating through his whole body. He smiled to himself when he took the axe with a tong and lifted the hammer to hit it where it should. His hand fell down with all the weight of the hammer and of his own will on the axe head.

The pain hit him at the same moment, making him release the tools and throwing him seven feet away from the anvil. Biting his lip to hold back a groan, he sat up and rubbed his chest where the pain hit him. It was not even sore to the touch, making it all more incomprehensible. He was scrambling to his feet when a shadow moved to be between him and the fire.

"You should not play with tools that are not meant for you, child, even if you feel inclined to fix things as soon as you may. I'm glad to see you are so willing to make things right, tough, as last time it took you absurdly long to take this step."

He looked at the one who spoke to him, wide eyed. He never heard that voice before, not outside his dreams, and he knew to whom it belonged.

"Mahal..."

The newcomer took the tools from where they'd fell and put them back into place; then he took the unfinished war axe, the metal still glowing red, with his bare hands and put it back on the forge to heat up again; then he straightened his tough leather apron with his hands and turned back to him.

"Yes, that is it. Now, close your mouth before you start dribbling, it's not like we never met."

The owner of the place beckoned him to a chair at the table where the water flagon was and made himself comfortable, filling a mug that wasn't there untilthat moment. The flagon poured red wine.

"Now, where are we? Aye, you have done a good job, child. Fulfilled what you swore, that's it."

He got dizzy, and held his head down until he felt better. Comprehension of where he was, and in front of whom, overwhelmed him.

"My Lord, I..."

"Hush, hush, child, I know, I know... Now, stand up, take a chair, we have much to talk, and no hurry. No need for apologies and kneeling stuff, not here, child."

Then he remembered everything. He had taken his people out of Erebor, and moved to the Gray Mountains. It had been a mistake, a decision made out of pride, and his people paid dearly for it. Dain I, the son of his grandson, was slain by a great cold-drake because of that decision, and Frór, Dain's second son also. But the firstborn, Thrór, moved his people back to Erebor, making the right decision. He wanted to help him, to compensate for having moved his people out of Erebor so long ago, and begged to go back and help to restore the glory of the halls of his people, that had been lost in great measure because of him. He promised. And he went.

"I... I didn't know that it was a plan to mend things I've done wrong before. I... I just loved Erebor fiercely, and when it was taken by Smaug... I just had to take it back."

"So, there was none as fit as you to do this deed, don't you think so?" He poured himself more wine, and from the same flagon poured more water for the one who had just arrived from Middle-Earth. "You cannot retain the memory of before when you're down there, like when you are here, else you would get crazy. One life is enough for one to deal in just a lifetime. Now, here, we can talk about the whole story and take some decisions about your future."

"I understand, my Lord."

"So, let us see what has been left behind..."

_Earth_

A whole year went by, and eventually things settled as they would have to. Iris was studying furiously, and begun to take charge of the medicinal plants growth in the yard; she was also applying for a nursing technician course and had already made a first aid course and a fire brigade course too.

Lily lost the year in college while copping her grief, but once she uplifted her head there was nothing that could stop her from achieving her goals. She was alive, and decided that she would live, not only survive, and make her best, although she went in Ellen's former 'out of business' mode.

Wolfram sat at the library certain morning, reading the newspaper, when through the open window an owl came in, a parchment tied to its talon. It found a place right in front of him to land down on the table, crooking his golden eyes to the man. Slowly and carefully, he reached for the bird and untied the silken ribbon with the parchment. The owl waited for a minute and flew away, silent as it came.

"Yes, a picture can tell more than a thousand words!" He said, looking at the open parchment; but there was another one, and words, too, lots of them.

"Dearest brother,

I hope the owl has found you, Dumbledore swore it would be easy for the bird to reach you once he could track the energy of Lily's sword, as it was made here in Middle-Earth. Next time, if you are able, provide one or two mice as reward for the owl and you'll be sure it will find you when needed.

It took me _years_ of negotiation to open this communication channel, so, please help to keep it open. There is a non-changing Gate between the Forbidden Forest in Hogwarts and Mirkwood. This means no mind blockage too, but if you ever send me a single word about the future it will not only be censored but all my efforts to negotiate this channel will be thrown into the recycle bin. I have not been able to negotiate the use of this Gate for personal use, yet, for the same reason. Next year wait for the owl with your letter already written, bind it in the bird's leg and it will reach me. Now, I'll try to condense last seven years happenings, else the owl will not be able to carry the parchment!

Bilbo went back to the Shire, accompanied by Gandalf, who would send word to Dís and the dwarves in the Blue Mountains to come and re-people Erebor. It seems Bilbo's people thought he was dead and made a mess with his things, he had to re-buy most of his own belongings and it took him years to prove he was alive. When Dís came with her people Bilbo came along to attend to our wedding, and it snowed food and rained drink for three days. It was almost a year after the Battle of Five Armies, so even if in sorrow for not having Thorin and Fili here, we were able to feast. Of course me and Kili didn't show our noses out of home in the second day of feasting, as this is the dwarven tradition, but be sure Dís and the Company provided that no guest has been unattended. I asked to have some of our world traditions present in the wedding, so my dress was white, but as I am counted as a warrior I had to wear some armor to show it, so I used silver vambraces and a light mithril full plate corselet. I had Tauriel and Arwen as my maidens at the wedding, as I had no family women here.

Dís is a sweetie, stubborn like Thorin Oakenshield; she was very saddened by the loss of both her brother and her first born son to war, but glad to have Kili left; when our son was born she was in state of grace, as it was the first time in seventy nine years that her family was growing instead of dwindling. I am really blessed to have Dís here, she was so reassuring to me when the baby was born, as I panicked because he was so _tiny_, but she calmed me explaining he was not _tiny_, he just was a _dwarf_! Well, let me introduce you our youngling, we thought it would only be fair to pay homage to Kili's uncle in his name, so Durin's line has already another _Thorin_. By the way, _Knee_ is how we use to call little Thorin to differentiate him from Thorin Oakenshield; you should see Kili's worry when the baby was born, because he had absolutely no experience with babies, and Kili kept mumbling 'W_hy does my son look like a knee?_' until Dís whacked his head explaining he looked exactly that way when he was born. We already have another one on the way, our upcoming one will be Lyn, if a girl, after Balin and Dwalin's sister, and if a dark-haired boy he will be Frérin, after Dís other brother, and if a blond then he will be Fili, for the deceased one.

Kili managed to grow a short beard already, it is no more that itchy stumbles, he even looks a bit more grown up. He has been quite a grown up king, too, having managed definite peace with the Mirkwood elves, and the "_you can never trust an elf_" quote became a joke. Dealings with Long-Lake have always been good, especially after the Master flew away with most of the gold that was sent to rebuild the town; seemingly he died of hunger in the Waste, deserted by his companions. Then the people chose another Master, more interested in his people's needs than in his own, and he works together with Bard in Dale, as twin cities. Dale was rebuilt even fairer than it was of old, or at least so do sing the ones who knew it before Smaug came. These seven first years have been of much cleansing and rebuilding, but they were worthy the effort.

To make it short, as the parchment is ending, people have given us nicknames due to what happened in the Battle, like Thorin had his Oakenshield nickname due to what happened in the Battle of Azanulbizar; Bombur and Bofur have found their Jewels, so we may have more younglings among the Company members in the next years. As Durin's people has decreased so much in the last two hundred years, we are making an effort to increase the birth rate amongst Erebor dwarves _leading by example_.

Love for ever,

Ellen Dwarvenheart, Fundinul"

In the other parchment there was a fine drawing of a sturdy short bearded dwarf, standing proudly holding in his arms a small boy with braids in his locks, and beside a chair where a longhaired elf sat smiling, her belly bulging with a midway term pregnancy. One acquainted to Anghertas runes would be able to read under the drawing:

"Erebor, Durin's Day of the seventh year of the reign of Kili Elvenblood, son of Dís, King Under the Mountain"


End file.
